


A Full Confession

by kassanovella, voidrot



Series: Pure, Lucid, Evil. [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Blasphemy, Bloodplay, Candlestick up the booty, Confessional Sex, Defiling, Dirty Talk, EVEN MORE BLOODPLAY, Explicit Catholicism, F/M, Father Ren is Totally 100 Percent Fine, Futile Appeals to a Higher Power, MASSive blowjob, Mirror Sex, Priest!Kylo, Reader gives Father Ren a literal la petite mort, Ritual Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Unhealthy Amounts of Cognitive Dissonance and Hypocrisy, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Violence, Virgin!Kylo, blowjob, demon!reader, ruined orgasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-07-28 12:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7641052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kassanovella/pseuds/kassanovella, https://archiveofourown.org/users/voidrot/pseuds/voidrot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You’d spent the last three months in Father Ren’s head, flipping through his brain like it was a stack of cards. He’d been tough to crack, at first--he’d built the barriers around his brain so thick you’d had to employ measures you hadn’t used in years. The innocuous, pointless questions, the skirts, the tiny touches. Layer after layer, until you caught it, like a snap of light in his pulse:</p><p>I need her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tell Me Everything

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. This is my first confession.”

The shift behind the lattice was audible. He recognized you. He had to have recognized you. 

“May the merciful God guide you into an honest and complete confession.”

You smirked. You’d spent the last three months in Father Ren’s head, flipping through his brain like it was a stack of cards. He’d been tough to crack, at first--he’d built the barriers around his brain so thick you’d had to employ measures you hadn’t used in _years_. The innocuous, pointless questions, naive and endearing. The skirts--always white, always short enough that they exposed the backs of your naked thighs. The tiny touches to his arm, the bright, unassuming smiles. Layer after layer, until you caught it, like a snap of light in his pulse:

_I need her._

The voice of his thoughts had been dark and voracious, full of black, liquid need. And now that same voice was hiding in the corner of his mind, whispering to him, tendrils of temptation leaking down into his veins.

_Tell me. Everything._

You considered your next words carefully. He was so close, and you'd worked so hard already. 

“I-I'm not quite sure where to begin.”

You could feel him lap at the honey of your words, your tone. 

“Wherever you are comfortable. Take your time.” 

His heartbeat thudded in his ears and your own, senses razored to a point to pick up all of his subconscious cues. You felt an undercurrent of desire ripple through his mind before he silenced it with a cough. Good--he was already having trouble suppressing himself.

“Well, I told a few lies. Nothing _too_ bad… just to spare some feelings.”

He was silent, unaffected. Okay, maybe it was time to step it up. 

“That's not all, of course. I may have fallen asleep during Mass once.”

You paused, shuffled through his thoughts. Boredom and something akin to disappointment were all you could gather. 

“I also cursed at another driver when he cut me off, Father. I’m sorry.”

An iridescent flicker of relief washed over him--you heard the shuffle of his cassock as he released a stifled sigh. Thrilled, you tugged the reins on your deviance, wanting to savor this moment like you’d savor every single part of him.

The wooden structure creaked when he moved to rest his chin on clasped hands. “Is that all, child?”

“No.”

Your brevity intrigued him. Straightening up, he directed curious, almost hopeful attention toward you. 

Wetting your lips, you continued. “I've been having what some might consider inappropriate fantasies.”

He sucked in a deep breath between lightly clenched teeth, trying to stem the lush, salacious flood of thoughts that threatened his composure. Delighting in his internal struggle, you let him think there was a chance of successfully resisting temptation for a few brief seconds before pushing him to the point of no return. Inside of the confessional, he was a lamb. And you were the slaughter.

“These lewd thoughts,” you said, “I know they’re wrong. I know they are. But I can’t stop them.” A pause--the air stiller than a grave. “I… I think about… touching myself. Sometimes.”

Ren swallowed. “How frequently are you having these thoughts?” His demeanor was still one of professionalism. You could hear his delusional insistence that such a question was necessary to counsel you.

“Oh, _every day_ , Father,” you replied. “They’re--they’re almost constant.” 

A pause--and you felt it, then. That lurch inside of his soul, straining at the chains of his discipline. The line was in front of him, and his toes were tracing it. But he resisted--again. “What causes these thoughts?”

“Um.” All you needed to do was yank him over. You sniffled, voice cracking in faux-shame. “Father, I… I don’t know if I can say it.”

“You can,” he said. “I cannot pass judgement on you. Only God.”

You shook your head. “But, it’s so shameful…”

The voice--the one he’d been fighting--shook him with its raven claws, a reluctant streak of lust running like fire over his flesh. “ _Tell me, child_.”

A shiver darted up your spine. Oh. This was getting _good_. “I know this is blasphemy,” you murmured, and paused, again, letting the anxiety build in his chest. “But, Father--my lewd thoughts are caused by _you_.”

First, it was a stuttered breath. Then, it was a single skipped heartbeat. And what followed that was the stampede of blood through his arteries, racing to his thighs against his will, flooding him with an ache and a warmth and a _need_ he’d long thought he’d muzzled. His facade was fracturing, his hunger oozing through the gaps. But despite it all, he was adamant that he was only helping you--nothing more. Even when the next question tumbled from his lips, cloaked in concern. 

“Do not feel ashamed,” he said. “Perhaps you could... discuss the content of these… _fantasies_.”

“Oh, I don't know, they're just so _filthy_...” You could feel the breath catch in his throat while he waited for you to continue. “But, of course, you know best.”

He exhaled and shifted, increasingly conscious of the stifling black cloth that both hid his desire and reminded him of his original purpose. In any other circumstance, he would have deferred to the Lord, insisted that only God knows best, that he was merely a conduit. But that didn't really matter to him right now, not as he waited with bated breath for you to continue. He wasn't even aware of the absence of piety, so insidious and all-consuming was his need. 

“Well, I just, I think you're so kind and wonderful… I would love to make you happy. So I found my thoughts drifting to ways I could… serve you. Carnally. Ways I could touch you, that would make you feel so, so good. And I knew it was wrong, but then all I could think about was your strong hands grasping me and punishing my disobedient flesh… how it would feel to have you run your fingers over me as you make me submit.”

Glancing sideways, you caught sight of his outline, chest heaving and Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried in vain to steady himself. His cassock rustled, and he leaned against the wall, head tilted back and lids shut.

“C-could you be more... specific, child?” Any semblance of righteous respectability was crumbling to dust, and it wouldn't be long before he'd have to face the reality of his physical being. He clung to the ledge of his teachings, grasping for an anchor to purity.

_Stop. Control yourself, Ren. She is not to be coveted._

Grinning, you kept your voice soft. Innocent. “Um, how specific would you like me to be, Father?” 

Hunger radiated through him in red waves, beating at his loins, beading sweat at his forehead. The deeper you tapped into his psyche, the more you felt--the itching of his fingers, the hammering of his heart, the shallow pools of his breath. And then--what you’d been waiting for--the urgent, needy throbbing between his legs, heavy and hot on his thigh. 

_Tell me. Tell me. Tell me. Let me hear those filthy words from your perfect little lips._

“A-as specific as you need to be.” His vocal cords were pulled tight, his nails pinching his legs in anticipation.

Heat coursed through you, cunt clenching when you pictured how his cock would feel in your hands. So close. You leaned forward, voice dipping into your chest.

“I know it’s so bad, Father… But I think about maybe, um, how it would feel to kiss you between your legs. To touch you there. And how… how it might make you feel. I always think it would feel so good for you.”

The levee in his brain burst, and depraved images of you on your knees, throat bulging from his erection overtook him. He tried to find relief, palming his bulge, but the heavy attire of a priest prevented much in the way of gratification. Muscles tensed, his thoughts were focused and furious. 

_I need you, please..._

You could feel his ache, your own body extra-sensitive in response to your knowledge of his arousal. 

"Should I continue?" You raised a brow, pleased with yourself. 

He didn't respond, well-aware that any attempt would likely release the moan swelling in his chest. 

You leaned closer to the partition and whispered, “There's so much more, Ren.”

A sharp intake of breath stuck in his throat, and he unleashed the building noise in a gentle, permissive sigh. He didn’t want you to know--didn’t want you to discover the remnants of his pride, didn’t want you to hear the soft scratch of cloth while he rubbed his cock through his pants. 

_Yes, more, that’s all I need, just a little more. Then I’ll stop._

“I think a... _full_ confession would be best,” he muttered. 

“Yes, Father.” You hid a giggle when he throbbed at his title. “This part is more difficult to say. But sometimes, when I think about it--I start to want you _inside_ of me. You know. Taking me. I think about how it might feel so good for you to...”

He gripped his dick through his clothes. _Say it._

“To, well, you know…” 

_Say it._ He squeezed the shaft, ears yearning to hear it from your mouth.

You swallowed. He was ready. “How good it might feel for you to put your cock inside of my pussy. How good it might feel for you to _fuck_ me.”

Ren splintered like a vase--a throttled groan left his mouth stuffed back down into his chest, covered with another cough. And the coughing fit continued as he fussed with his pants, fighting with his cassock--and you felt a torrent of satisfaction and shame rip through him when his fingers wrapped around the burning length of his dick.

It’d been a while, you figured--it must have been, from the sloppy way he started pumping his shaft, sending sounds of slapping skin ricocheting through the confessional. You peered through the lattice--his eyes were screwed shut, pink lips parted in ecstasy, a shell of sweat at his brow.

Reveling in the heady mixture of emotions sliding off of him, you considered your next move. A not insignificant part of you wanted to burst in on him, throw him to the ground and make him beg. The game was proving to be too much fun to stop quite yet, however, so you continued wearing your mask of virtue. 

“W-what’s that… are you okay?” Feigning naive concern, you exited your compartment in a rush and threw open the door concealing him.

Startled, he dropped his cock and yelped, face flushing a deep crimson. 

“I-it’s not…!” he choked, unable to finish in his humiliation. 

To his dismay and your delight, the obscenity of the situation sent goosebumps over his skin, his erection twitching under your stare. He looked more perfect than you had even imagined--his pants tugged down to the middle of his strong thighs, his long, thick cock leaning in a gentle arc toward his stomach, his flesh red and angry against the black backdrop of his robes. A cloudy drop of precum had beaded at the tip of his dick.

“Shhh.” You knelt in front of him, unbuttoning your shirt, revealing your distinct lack of a bra. He gasped and licked his lips, unable to look away from your pretty breasts, your nipples already stiff. Spreading his knees, you sat on your heels between his legs, gazing up at him with round, eager eyes. “I can show you, if you like.”

Too far gone to consider anything but you, he nodded, pupils big and dark. Your mouth pulled into a vaguely wicked grin and you started brushing tentative kisses on his thigh. His muscles tightened under your touch, and his hand moved to stroke himself again, but you snatched it from the air, lacing your fingers together and pinning it to his hip. Without a word, your lips moved inward, growing closer to the fire between his legs. His hand shook in yours as you neared the base of his shaft, his head daring to fall back onto his shoulders for the briefest of moments. 

The sight of you, so close to his sex, closer than anyone had ever been was making him delirious, blurring his vision with bliss. He was convinced--tinged with worry--that the second any part of you came in contact with his dick, he’d shoot his seed onto his robes, stain himself with the evidence of his weakness. And even still, his personified darkness--having grown fat and greedy--hissed into his mind.

_That’s right. Put that sweet little mouth of yours on my cock. Wretched, pathetic whore._

“Are you sure this is what you want, Father?” you said, circling the root of his dick with a single digit. “Because I just haven’t been able to stop thinking about what you’d taste like…”

Ren moaned, shuddering with want, large hand crushing yours. His mind was a flurry of excitement and fear. What would it feel like--your mouth, or even just your hand? Would it feel different than his own? Would it feel better? And what if--he dared to think--he could sink himself into your cunt? How could he possibly stand anything that promised to be so warm and tight and _wet_ \--he whimpered, overcome just from his own thoughts.

_Give it to me. Give me everything. I need it. I need you._

“Is that a yes?” Your wide eyes belied any knowledge of his demands. It was just too much fun to tease and watch him give in. 

His voice was hoarse with need. “I-It is.”

Such desperation urged you on, and you flattened your tongue along the pulsing underside of his cock, dragging it up from the base for what felt like an eternity to Ren. You kissed the head and lightly scraped your teeth over it while you wrapped your mouth around him. A low groan escaped his chest while he basked in your luscious warmth, unsure how he hadn’t already succumbed.

You drew your head back, feeling him stare as his considerable length emerged from your throat, bit by bit. His digits clenched yours, bending and digging into your knuckles in a way that would have broken them had you not been… well, _you_. He couldn't possibly take notice of such oddities, though, while his attention was fully focused on your tongue swirling around his leaking tip. Eager for more, he thrust his hips upward, hoping to slide back in between your lips. 

Giggling, you pulled away and stood up. “Patience is a virtue, Father!”

Embarrassment reddened his face, even as his eyes fell to your breasts. He gulped, gaze lingering, his mind running a reel of how he might pull one of your perky nipples into his mouth, how he might lap at them with his tongue--how would you taste, how would you feel in his hands? His body was in flames, just for you. Only for you. Lost in his fantasies, he wet his lips and wiped his palms on his cassock.

“Please,” he whispered, voice thick with desire, “I want more. I need… more.”

You cocked your head. “More?” Smirking, you snaked a hand up your stomach, kneading your own breast, rolling your nipple in your fingers, covering yourself in anxious gooseflesh. “More of what?”

_You. All of you._

“I want to touch you.” His chin quivered. “T-taste you.”

“ _Oh_.” 

Nodding, you leaned forward, reaching under your skirt and shimmying your panties down the curve of your hips. All Ren could do was watch, mesmerized, his mind screaming for a flash of your cunt. He’d never seen one, not in the flesh--he was desperate to know how perfect and tantalizing yours looked. But you wouldn’t give it to him--not yet. 

Instead, you stepped out of your underwear, sauntering over to him, wedging yourself back in between his legs. He stared at you, both reverent and terrified, as you dragged a hand down his chest, heightened senses picking up the stammering breath and rapid pulse through his robes. How precious he looked, really--his cheeks flushed pink, his thick hair frizzing with sweat--you couldn’t resist. You purred, leaning in, and pressed your lips to his, marvelling at their plush fullness.

He followed your lead, inexperience making him a timid kisser at first. You traced his lips with your tongue before pushing past them and exploring his mouth. He opened for you, pliant and willing, happy to memorize your taste. His hands moved as if of their own will to rest on your waist, gliding down to your hips. You guided one up to to palm your breast, his enthusiasm apparent as he gripped a bit too hard, poking marks into your flesh. Whining, you withdrew from him slightly and bit his bottom lip as a reprimand, clearly lost on him while he moaned in response and pulled you closer. 

His longing was making him bolder. Attempting to maintain control, you removed his grip and maneuvered his wrists above his head. Holding them there with one preternaturally strong hand, you tilted your head back to allow him a taste of your neck. Moist, kiss-swollen lips worshipped your throat before you pulled back. 

_No, no, what are you doing? I_ need _to feel that cunt, you heathenous bitch._

You tilted your head. “What's that?”

“N-nothing.” He was puzzled. “Please, just come closer.”

Sneering, you ran a treacherous nail down the front of his cassock, the sliced cloth billowing away like dark clouds, revealing the firm heat of his ravenous body. Momentary surprise flashed over you as you took in the sight before you. Thick ropes of muscle wound over his shoulders, continuing down to his broad, pale chest and tight stomach--pretty fit for a man of God. He could've easily overtaken you under different circumstances. You realized, then, he hadn't struggled once within your grasp. _He loved submitting to you._

That same nail bit into his skin, now, cutting a shallow, thin line down the center of that gorgeous torso. Blood bloomed to the surface in strings of red pearls, and you smirked, going to meet his gaze--but he was captivated by your touch, watching you peel him open, panting from the blend of pleasure and pain resonating through him. 

You stopped at the tuft of dark hair near his cock, returning to your knees. His breath stopped again, trapped in his lungs while you led your wet tongue up the trail of blood, unable to stop the moan that escaped you as the taste of copper hit your palate. God, he was delicious. Your pussy was dripping by now--you couldn’t tease him much longer.

“Oh,” he whispered, his dick hitting your chest as it twinged. “ _Oh_ , please…”

Leaning into his ear, you mapped the breadth of his chest with your palms. “Tell me what you want, Father…” He groaned, and you grabbed his wrist, guiding him under your skirt and between your legs. “Is it me?”

His brain lit up like a firework, crackling with hysteria, and his unskilled fingers groped at your pussy, feeling the tender wetness of your folds. He had no clue what he was doing--just that he wanted to put himself inside of you, somehow, to test what it would be like, gentle grunts rumbling in his chest as he dug at your cunt, searching for your entrance. Wanting to silence himself, he leaned forward, sucking one of your nipples into his hot mouth.

You bent into him while his tongue flicked at the stiff nub and his teeth grazed your areola. He had paused his frantic search, content instead to stroke you, familiarize himself with the shape of your labia and the perfect slick wetness that adorned it. Pressing his handsome face into your chest, you gently gyrated your hips, urging him towards your swollen clit. Not finding much success and getting desperate yourself, you smacked his hand away and straddled his lap. His palms fell to your thighs, massaging the sensitive skin and indulging in their soft give. 

“O-ohh.” A deep, primal sound ripped from his throat, and you almost didn't hear him--

_I want to open you up and make you writhe._

Cock twitching at the endlessly enticing sight of you, combined with his ever-growing perversion, he bucked his hips, hoping to catch any touch at all. His hot length awkwardly grazed your abdomen, and you smirked. Something about his insatiable hunger for you turned you on in a way you hadn't expected, and you decided to end his lifelong famine. Gripping his dick, you rubbed the head in slow circles on your clit, sighing as delicious heat swelled between your legs. Sliding it down, you positioned him at your entrance, teasing and pulling away whenever he tried to thrust. 

You clutched his jaw, sharp nails pricking through skin, tiny garnets soon ornamenting your digits. “You belong to me, Kylo.”

Before he could respond, or even form a coherent thought, you sank down onto his dick, mouth popping open in pleasure, a low moan leaving your chest. Ren was gasping, frenzied, eyes wide with disbelief as ecstasy surged through his veins, his mind blank, bleached free of guilt or worry. For just that moment, he relished it--the flawless, impossible feeling of his shaft being swallowed by your cunt. 

And it wasn’t as if you weren’t enraptured--he was thick, thicker than he’d felt in your mouth or hands, splitting you wide into your belly. You felt him pulsing, blood throbbing in his dick, all the while he clamored for sanity, terrified to cum and end it too soon.

“That’s right,” you mumbled. “You feel so , _good_ …”

Clutching his shoulders, you rolled your hips, grinning when he choked from the feeling. You focused, clenching around him, ensuring that he wouldn’t cum, keeping him hard and greedy inside your cunt. When you rose up, you noticed his fingers grappling with your skirt, bunching it around your hips so he could watch you defile him, watch you as you robbed him of his purity.

 _Yes. Perfect. Perfect. So_ filthy…

Ren’s hands burrowed into your hips as his pelvis jerked, an amateur attempt at thrusting up into you, but you were quick to punish him, gouging his flesh with your nails until he barked in surrender. Even still, a growl hung in the back of his throat, his virgin cock demanding an immediate and powerful release into your pussy. Just the thought of it made his hips snap again, so helpless was he under the influence of your body.

You nipped his neck and dragged your lips up to his ear. “Patience.”

His stare had become predatory and surly, but he chewed his tongue and said nothing, chest heaving while he allowed you to grind into his pelvis as you pleased. Every rut against him, every clench of your cunt, every moan that left your lips was exquisite in a way he could never have dreamed.

Hypnotized by the sight of your flushed sex absorbing him over and over, he hardly noticed you tug his digits down to rest on your thigh, slipping his thumb between your legs to rub your neglected clit. He experimented, tracing shapes into you, and listened, entranced, for your reaction. Your whimpering mewls informed him where you needed friction the most, and he was relentless, attacking your sensitive nerves with ferocity. Lips parted, he watched in veneration as your orgasm built, and although he scarcely knew what would happen, he found he wanted nothing more than to feel you cum with his cock buried deep inside. 

_Fuckfuckfuck, cum all over me--_

Rolling your hips, you let out the loudest, lewdest moan you could and concentrated on the throbbing heat between you. So close. His other hand gripped your ass so hard you could almost feel the bruises forming, and the thought sent you over the edge, clenching and bucking against him while you dragged your knife-sharp nails down his biceps, bliss buffeting your nerves in ragged waves. 

_O-oh my fucking God_ …!

He fucked up into you, slamming your cervix and growling when he realized he couldn't go any deeper. Thighs and stomach tensed, hair damp with sweat and sticking to his temples, dick pulsing inside of you, he no longer cared how you might punish him--he needed to fill you with his seed. 

“Oh, p-please, _Lord_ , please!” he groaned--and you saw it, like a beacon in his brain. He was going to cum, he was going to cum inside of you, and it was going to feel so, so, _so fucking good_. 

You snickered, hissing into his ear. “You want to cum for me, Kylo?”

Tears stung his eyes, crystal drops spilling down his ruddy cheeks. “Yes! Christ, yes!”

“ _Good_.”

In one smooth motion, you reared back, brandishing your claws, and plunged your fist straight through his chest, tearing through his flesh, shattering his sternum, warm blood enveloping you as you gripped his heart. Ren’s breath stopped, his gaze struck with shock as he tried to process what you’d just done. His pulse echoed through you, from your palm to your pussy, and you groaned.

“Cum for me, _Father_.”

He gasped, eyes rolling into the back of his head, lids fluttering while he _screamed_ , your nails piercing his heart, squeezing, halting the steady beat as pleasure gushed through his veins. The sensation was almost enough to drive you into a sympathetic climax, his cock pumping jet after jet of thick, hot cum deep into your cunt. His body convulsed, spasming in the white throes of euphoria and death, mouth hanging open as obscene gurgles spilled from his mouth.

Only when you were certain he had poured himself dry, when you felt his seed dripping out and coating your thighs, did you begin to extract your hand. You felt a satisfying, oozing pop when you pulled each one of your claws from his heart, the muscle beating once more. His eyes regained their depth and sentience, but he was still too much in a daze to truly react. 

Taking your time, you eased yourself from his chest, reconnecting muscle, bone,and tendons in your wake. Delicate nerves intertwined and he gasped and jerked as feeling returned to his body. Shit. He threw you off of him in the middle of healing the last layer of skin--raw, pink scar tissue blossomed instead, leaving an angry brand on his chest. 

“Shh, shh,” you murmured at his forehead, stroking his hair with blood-soaked digits. 

Deciding it was best to make your exit before he regained coherence, you unstuck yourself from his lap, leaving him slumped over with pants down around his knees. Still so delicious. Unable to help yourself, you dropped in front of him and sank your teeth into a thick thigh, breaking skin and capillaries alike. He was perfect, even like this--and you hummed as you slurped up the streams of blood. 

Planting one last kiss on his softening cock, you stood back up, redressed, and strode over to the baptismal font to wash yourself. You would have to miss his sermon, this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> voidrot and myself were both OBSESSED with the idea of Priest!Kylo after seeing some art on tumblr (I CAN'T FIND THE ART ANYMORE AHH)--so we were spurred on into writing this. We hope you enjoyed it!


	2. It's Sacrilege

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't let Father Ren go. He has to be yours. And it turns out this might be easier than you thought.

_That didn’t happen. That didn’t happen._

His thoughts were so loud, so insistent, that you’d heard them before the church doors, heard them even through the cacophony of families leaving Mass. They rose over the chorus of muttering plans like a declaration. 

_That didn’t happen. That didn’t happen._

You’d known Father Ren to be delusional--but this was bordering on pathetic. Slinking through the crowd, you passed into the church, smoothing your hands over your skirt, meandering around the side of the pews. You’d spotted him up at the altar already, his back toward the absent audience. A shiver of desire ran up your spine when you recalled the previous week, recalled his thick, muscular frame and his eager cock, twitching for you despite his inner-protests. It seemed he hadn’t stopped protesting.

_That didn’t happen. That didn’t happ--_

“Good morning, Father Ren,” you called, tone sickeningly saccharine. 

A rod shot up his back, his shoulders crowding at the mere sound of your voice. Even as his mind shouted at him to leave, to go to his office, do literally anything other than talk to you, he found himself opening his mouth, spurred on by the devil in his boiling blood.

“You’re late.” There was no glow of warmth to his words. 

_Do not look at her. It did not happen._

“I’m _so_ sorry, Father.” Every step was long, deliberate--a prowl. “I guess I just… overslept.”

You could feel him seethe at your blatant lie and nonchalant disrespect, even when he turned around. His eyes flicked towards your face, then down, appraising your outfit. He was momentarily grateful that you hadn’t shown up during Mass in such a short skirt and thin, low cut top, that he hadn’t needed to maintain composure while you watched. Catching himself, he glanced up, then more naturally off to the side, his gaze finally resting on the ground. 

_It did not happen. Just walk away._

He cleared his throat. “Did you need something? I have a lot of work to do.”

Even if you hadn’t been able to hear his self-denials, his anxious dismissal told you everything you needed to know. You cast about for some reason to make him stay. Knowing that he probably wouldn’t believe you anyway, you figured it was safe to divulge at least part of the truth.

“I… just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

With one simple admission, you had destroyed the protective barrier that he’d built up over the last seven days. He froze, unsure how to respond while maintaining his delusion. Logically, there really wasn’t any way to do so. To his credit, though, he certainly tried.

_Nothinghappenednothinghappenednoth--_

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Although you understood the value of subtlety, the time had passed for beating around the bush. Still, you weren’t quite ready to be _wholly_ forthcoming.

“You sort of… I mean, I guess I left you in a bit of a state last week.”

There it was. Maybe not the best wording you could have chosen, but he needed to face the truth. He needed to admit what had happened, that you two had fucked, that resistance was effectively futile. His eyes narrowed and you felt his blood pressure and adrenaline soar. 

_Calm yourself, calm down._

“A state.” Ren swallowed, turning back to the altar. His long fingers trailed the length of the tall candle in front of him, grazing over the cool brass before resting on the cloth adorning the surface. He stood there for a moment, silent while he fisted the fabric, knuckles paler than the white weave. “You did far more than that.”

_Whore._

You shrugged, moving closer, hips swaying with every step. There were only feet between you, now. “What do you remember?”

He spun, irises blazing. “You need to leave.”

“Or what?” Another step. He swallowed again, stumbling in a failed retreat. “What will you do, Father?” Your gaze devoured him--and a ripple of longing rolled off of him. Pouting, you crossed your arms. “I thought you enjoyed it.”

Ren drew in a long breath through his nose, his fists trembling. His mind was a warzone.

_Filthy slut. Ruined me. Ruined everything I worked for. Deserves to suffer. Deserves to burn. No. No. Walk away, Ren. Walk away. She’s not worth it. Not worth this. She is--she is--God, help me--her legs… her breasts… Disgusting, unholy bitch._

“I enjoyed nothing.” He wanted to run--you were inches from him--but he was a statue under your stare.

Smirking, you eased yourself against his tall, strong body. He was hot with resistance--but you persisted, dragging a nail down the front of his robes, the point snagging on the button thread. You caught his gaze, peering up at him through thick lashes.

“Didn’t you?”

With a snarl, he cracked you across the cheek with the back of his hand, and you yelped, neck twisting from his sheer strength, skin stinging from shock. Panicking, he clutched your face, angling you to meet his gaze, his chest heaving. You imagined he wanted to repent, or apologize--but the second his eyes met yours, his nails bit your skin, and he pulled you into a sloppy, ravenous kiss. 

You reciprocated, just as hungry, weaving your fingers into his hair and scraping your nails into his scalp. He was bolder than last time, although still unrefined, his tongue aggressive in your mouth. Drawing blood when his teeth sank into your bottom lip, he withdrew just enough to tilt your head and plant furious kisses along your neck, leaving a wet trail down to your collarbone. 

_Why can't I stop?_

You moaned and pulled him closer, running your palms over his broad shoulders.

_Where is my self-control?_

His hands sank to the zipper on your skirt, fumbling and slipping as he tugged it down. The simple black article slid from your waist and dropped to the floor, and you shivered with excitement. 

_This is wrong, I shouldn't do this…_

You'd pushed his cassock out of the way by now, and he stiffened at the thought of how blasphemous this all was. Satisfaction surged through you as you realized that this would be far easier than you could have hoped. It had taken so much effort to ignore the warm, heavy throb he'd felt whenever he caught sight of the confessional, to suppress images of your sex devouring his--and you'd unraveled it just by showing up. 

Ren huffed his desperation into your flesh, grappling with your exposed hips and ass, relishing how soft and pliant you were in his fingers. Delight was a fire to his thoughts, his shame only fueling it--he didn’t only want to touch you, he wanted to sear the image of your body into his brain, he wanted a recording in his mind, something he could replay when he spilled his frustration over his hands. So he gripped you, large palms gathering swathes of flesh, and hoisted you onto the altar, growling into your skin as he balled the hem of your top in his digits.

_Need her. Need her. Need her. Need to fuck her cunt, need to taste her cum, need--_

“Mmm, _Kylo_ , please…” You raked your nails over his back, and he shuddered.

“You cannot call me that,” he hissed, hands shaking while he fought the urge to rip your shirt in two. 

“Then what shall I call you,” you purred, nibbling his ear, “ _Father_?”

_Whore!_

He grabbed your neck, squeezing as he slammed you down onto the altar, knocking the communion chalice to the ground and looming over you with a feral gaze and reddened cheeks. His breath was shallow, and at the sight of you underneath him, your legs spread to either side of his hips, it hitched. You felt it, like a drumbeat in his blood--the hot, aching pulse of his cock, begging to fuck you open.

“Shut up.”

His anger only fueled your arousal, and your fingers worked quickly to unfasten your blouse while you squirmed. Any snide remarks caught in your throat, stifled by the pressure of his long digits on your jugular. He growled, working to free his erection one-handed, dark eyes feasting on you. Yanking your panties down, first the left side, then the right, he tore them from your ankles, hesitating, looking between your pussy and the garment before a long, reverent exhale escaped his lungs, and he released your neck.

Cheeks crimson, he pressed the damp crotch of your panties to his nose, lids fluttering while he drew in a deep breath, jerking his thick, throbbing dick. He choked a moan in his throat as he gazed at your cunt again, sucking air through his nostrils and fucking his fist.

_I will split you open._

Ren swallowed and threw your underwear to the ground, still stroking his shaft as he crushed your neck again, cutting your air before skimming down your naked body. Pausing at your breasts, he tweaked your nipple, hard enough to make you squeal. 

“I said shut _up_!”

His voice pealed like thunder and you would have been afraid--if you were less sure of your own power. It was exhilarating, and you basked in the storm of his desire. His hand continued its descent, ending between your legs. Half out of fascination and half out of arousal, he let go of his cock and used both thumbs to pry open the flushed lips of your cunt, gulping as he examined it, eyes roaming over your clit, down your aching core. He brushed fingers over the glistening flesh, and, with momentary uncertainty, plunged two into your slick entrance. 

“Oh, _fuck_!” 

You clenched around his digits, spine arching towards the heavens--and he growled, slapping a sharp palm across your breast, pain morphing into pleasure inside your nerves while your flesh jiggled. Squirming, you bit your lip, leering at him with lust-laden eyes, goading him further. Ren’s heart flew out of his ribcage, his fingers pumping in and out of your pussy, trying to fuck you with his hand. But his inexperience made his ministrations clumsy, almost painful--his brain was rumbling with selfish, gluttonous need.

 _Feels so tight, so wet, so warm, feels so good clenching around me, want to fuck_ now, _want to make you scream and cry, want to feel this around my cock, want to_ cum…

His knuckles hit your folds with wet smacks, his gaze glued to the sight of his digits thrusting into your cunt. Sweat beaded in bands at his hairline, a single drop sliding down his long nose, his lips tight over his teeth as he pushed harder, faster, grunting with exertion. Breath escaped you in stifled pants, his mad, graceless need like a drug shot straight to your brain, flooding you with desire. You wanted more--more of his greed, more of his fury. 

“Mmm, Kylo… “

The words pierced him like a knife, and his gaze snapped to yours, glowing with the embers of his rage. With a scowl, he tore his fingers from your core, your juices dripping onto the floor, and shoved them into your open, whining mouth. 

“Keep my name off your filthy tongue!”

You hummed, sucking his digits clean, tongue gliding between the crease of his fingers while he watched, brow furrowed. It was a show for him, really--you rocked your hips, snaking a hand down your stomach as you licked the tips. A soft whimper escaped him, his chin trembling, and he pushed further in, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. His length grazed your thigh when he leaned over you, and its stiff warmth prodded at your cunt, clumsy and thick. 

His focus switched--he needed to get inside of you. Ren straightened and reached down to grip his cock, guiding it towards your core, slicking the weeping head of his dick on your lips. Face twisted with perversion, he snapped his hips into you prematurely, causing it to slide along your folds, skimming over your entrance altogether. Grunting in frustration and embarrassment, he tried again, jaw tight while he angled the head of his cock firm against your pulsing core, and then pushed in, almost drooling as he watched his swollen shaft sink into your wet pussy.

_Lord, help me…_

You bit his fingers and writhed, trying to press into his pelvis. He growled in pain and snatched his hand back, gripping your waist instead. Throwing his weight into his thrusts, he fucked into you with no more skill than the first time, his hips heaving with the desperation of denial. You wrapped your legs around his waist in a vain attempt to grind against him, but he grasped your knees and unclasped your legs, shoving them up towards your torso and groaning as the shape of your cunt changed. 

Never, even in his most indulgent of fantasies, ever had he imagined a feeling so consuming, so addictive--it flooded his blood with white fire, blessed him with molten veins, sent every single cell in his body into a rebellion, his entire being rabid with desire. Saliva leaked down his chin as he pinned your legs back further, hips slamming into you with ragged, jerky thrusts. 

_Feels so good feels so good feels so fucking good--_

“O-oh, _God_ ,” he groaned. “God, please…”

You mewled, clenching around his pulsing cock, leaning up into his ear. “No room for God here, Father.”

Ren hissed, hips bucking and striking your cervix, and you gasped, trembling, whining while his lips found your neck. He sucked the skin between his teeth, nipping, biting, barely cognizant of the marks he was making. Even in his frenzied state, you made out the muddled pleas of his mind, urging you to stop moaning his name, his title, anything--hearing it burned him with shame, put him at the brink of climax, made his cock twitch as he fought the need to cum. 

But you _loved_ it--loved his reckless possession, loved how he fucked you deeper and harder than you'd ever remembered, loved the wide, delicious stretch of his cock as he pounded you. Most of all, though, you loved that you could almost taste it--his darkness, radiating from him like black light, filling you with a glee and anticipation you'd been denied for far too long. He'd be yours. Only yours. 

Gasping from exertion, Ren withdrew himself and gripped your hips. Hungry to see more of you, he flipped you around and pushed you onto your elbows and knees, forcing your thighs apart with shaking hands, groping for your entrance with his fingers. He was captivated by your cunt--fumbling between your folds, pressing and pushing every crevice with slippery digits. You bucked your hips whenever he grazed your clit, and he responded with a strong slap to your ass each time. You were getting impatient. 

“Are you gonna fuck me, or just learn about vaginas?”

_How dare you ta--_

He’d cut his thought off mid-thrust when he drove back into you, brain and body engulfed in warm pleasure. He pulled you closer, fingers digging deep into your flesh, careless in his ferocity. The angle made you so much tighter, and allowed him to thrust so much deeper, and nothing could have pulled his mind from the bliss that enveloped him. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed throughout the high, arched ceilings, taking your tryst to a whole new level of obscenity, and you couldn't tell who enjoyed it more. 

_This is so wrong!_

You rubbed your clit, canting your hips as you worked yourself towards climax, clenching around him as he hammered into you. 

_It's sacrilege._

He moaned, cock dragging against your silky walls. 

_No, it's fucking_ divine.

Ren was losing grip on reality--his mind a mess of color and light, the ability to form coherent thoughts deteriorating. All that filtered through was his shame at his depravity, his lust for your body, and his need to cum inside of you, to spill himself, to empty every bit of his weakness into your cunt so that he might be free of his obsession. Too bad for him, really--you had no intention of letting him go.

Fingers moving faster over your nub, you rutted into him, seeking more and more of his imperfect thrusts, and this only drove him wilder, releasing a loud, unrepentant groan. His focus now was solely on his dick, on finding that peak, another moan escaping him when he remembered how it felt. But there was one thing missing.

 _Cum--please cum, please cum on my cock_ , Christ, _I need to feel you, need to hear you…_

His hidden pleas had you whimpering, mouth hanging open in ecstasy, cunt clamping down on his cock as your orgasm surged through you, walls milking his length--and you cried out in bliss.

“Oh, fuck, oh--Kylo, _Kylo_!”

The snap in his mind was so powerful that it made you wince--he snarled, pushed over the edge, grunting and gasping as his hips rammed yours. You saw his approaching climax--a blinding flash over the wrinkles of his brain--but there was something else, there, too. Something empty. Wicked. Delicious.

The sensations hit him like a tidal wave, and his cock throbbed as he poured his warm seed inside you. He closed his fingers around the closest altar candlestick to steady himself, and when his orgasm crested and broke, you felt his growing darkness rear its vicious head. Before you could tease out his intentions, you heard the slide of something heavy behind you and a cold, sharp prodding breached your ass.

“What are y--”

An agonizing pain pushed through you, Ren grunting as he sodomized you with the smooth brass implement and forced it through your organs. One final thrust and he'd impaled you fully, shiny metal piercing your chest and poking at an odd angle between your breasts. Blood choked you and dripped from your torso, filling your lungs and puddling as it soaked through the white linen of the altar cloth. You barely registered his hand on the small of your back, supporting his weight while he leaned over, close to your ear. 

“How does it feel?”

His tone was inky and mocking, and it seemed so _right_. 

Craning your neck to look at him as best you could, you grinned and spit, red fluid splattering his face and smirking lips. Ren’s expression fell, as if he’d been slapped, the cruelty dying in his stare, and he blinked, gaze drifting between your eyes and the candlestick lodged in your body.

_No. No. This is..._

He stumbled backwards, softening cock slipping out of you, his wide, dazed eyes gazing down at his blood and cum-stained cassock. Mouth agape, he stared at his hands, watching as they trembled against his will.

_I didn’t…_

Forehead wrinkling in confusion, he glanced again at your figure. Dark tendrils of sweat-damp hair obscured his vision, turning the entire scene into a nebulous horror that his brain was failing to process. He was dizzy, still staggering back, until his legs hit a pew and forced him to collapse. There was nothing but silence, his face blank, lost in shock and disbelief.

You rolled your eyes at his hunched form. He’d get over it. Sighing, you reached behind, and gripped the candlestick he'd used to run you through. It was best to do it quickly--like a bandage, only excruciating. Gritting your teeth, you ripped it out, and a sickening squelch accompanied the cold whoosh as you removed the makeshift weapon and viscera dribbled down your stomach. You sat up, still kneeling on the altar in your own fluids, before tossing it aside, letting it clatter on the cool, white marble floor. 

You inhaled, unsettled by the feeling of air being pulled in through the hole in your chest. Not the worst you’d gotten, though. Wincing, you stood, buttoning your blouse and pulling on your skirt, making your slow, limping way out of the church. You could use a nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suddenly this one-shot we wrote turned into a 5-parter? HAHA. I hope y'all continue to enjoy the literal sin because w'ere fucking obsessed with Father Ren and we're drowning.


	3. Nor Duplicity in Speech

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to catch you off-guard. Most of the time.

The cathedral doors were open when you arrived--Father Ren had showed up even earlier than you had--and you were the first congregant to cross the threshold that morning. It seemed silly, really, calling yourself a _congregant_ at all. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d done anything remotely deserving of the label. Except, perhaps, giving Ren a glimpse of God. But even that was unholy, and you’d done it _in_ the church, for Christ’s sake. 

Certainly, your internal violation of the second Commandment alone was enough to exempt you from the category.

Sound died inside of the vacant church. The early sun lit jewels into the stained glass, fragments of color streaming in rays onto the stage. Iron-wrought lines cut kaleidoscope designs onto the white-marble floors and the spotless altar linen--a new one, unless Ren had gone through the trouble of bleaching out your blood himself. You crept through the columns of rainbow light, crossing past the empty choir, your heels filling the buttressed walls with hollow resonance. 

Even your mind was quiet, despite the minute effort you’d made to cast out for his thoughts. Father Ren had been diligent in his repentance. Not that it mattered, really. His cracks were clearer every Sunday.

The echoing click of a lock being secured told you where you'd find him. From down a narrow hall--easy to miss if you weren't looking for it, and partially obscured by the stern columns lining the aisles--you heard his heavy gait and the rustle of his cassock. You wondered with amusement whether he'd had to replace the two you'd ruined, or if he'd had more lying around. 

Leaning against a pillar, you waited for him to join you in the main gallery. He saw you upon stepping out of the corridor, his height causing his thick dark hair to brush along the decorative archway. His eyes widened, and you almost melted under the hazel-honey hue of his irises in the bright morning light. He really _was_ gorgeous. 

Almost as quickly, his gaze became guarded and confused, softened by a tinge of relief. For once, his thoughts and words truly aligned. 

“How? How did you… _survive_?”

You inhaled, slow and deep. Despite his clear shock after running you through, he'd obviously remembered. And, you noted, atoned heavily--perhaps corporally? The thought made you shiver with delight. An imperceptible shake of your head, and you pulled yourself from speculation, deciding on your response. 

“I did.”

Not eloquent, perhaps, but you realized that you weren't quite sure how to explain your true nature to him. 

For his part, though, the ambiguity had only stoked the flame of panic in his brain. Your admission hadn’t only confused him, it confirmed what he’d feared most: that it had actually _happened_. The collapse of his rationalization was slow, like a crumbling relic, stripping away the barriers and fallacies he’d constructed to justify his memory. They’d been hallucinations, he’d almost been certain, brought on by the obscene violations of his creed coupled with the dizzying intensity of pleasure. But now he had you, in front of him, verifying the validity of his deepest fears.

Like a machine, his mind went to work sewing up the holes that were eating into his conscience. If it had all been real, then he would have fucked you on that altar. He would have impaled you with that candlestick. He could have killed you. Even worse--the scar on his chest hadn’t been an event lost to his crippled hippocampus. No. It’d been you. _In_ his chest. Somehow. It’d all been you. 

You saw his fingers tremble with bewilderment at his own reality. There was something he didn’t know about you. Something he needed distance from. Immediately. 

“Good morning,” he said, already striding to the altar. It had been a dismissal, not a greeting.

But you weren’t done with him. The previous week, you’d reaped the consequences of untethering his darkness. And you’d _loved_ it. You were so, so close now. He’d be yours before the month was out.

So you followed him, glued to his heels like a lost puppy, with just as much enthusiasm.

“Good morning, Father!” you chirped. His shoulders heaved at the sound of your voice, feet stomping up the stage as he made his way behind the altar to the lectern. “How are you?”

Ren was silent. He chewed his lip, fixated on the book in front of him, left hand idly tracing the jasper beads of his rosary next to it. 

_Leave me alone. Please._

“I'm concerned, actually, because I'm starting to think a more relevant question is _what_ are _you_?”

_Stop. Don't engage with her._

You opened your mouth, unsure how to answer, but he continued. 

“Because it seems to me that you should’ve--”

He stopped short and looked up towards the wide open doors, fear tightening his lips over his teeth and furrowing his brow. You both processed the impending threat of being caught simultaneously as the distant voices of congregants floated through the still air.

_No, no, no!_

“ _Hide_!” he hissed, snatching your arm and yanking you toward him. Acting purely on instinct, he shoved you under the lectern. “ _And be quiet_.”

He straightened up, obscuring you while he addressed the flooding pews with a warm but nervous _good morning_ , thrown off by the necessity of starting where he was, rather than entering after everyone was seated. 

You sat on your heels and pondered the situation. Mass would last a whole hour, and it wasn’t like you had reading material. Staring at the hem of Ren's cassock, a wicked smile danced over your mouth, and you reached out to unfasten the bottom several buttons. Moving up, one by one, slow so he wouldn't notice, you reached his thighs before a hand darted into your hiding spot and swatted half-heartedly.

Frowning, you caught his wrist and kissed his fingers, and he paused. You felt his pulse skipping over your skin, and then, with slight hesitation, he drew it back. Reaching towards him once more, you pushed the heavy black aside and palmed his slight bulge through his pants, his flesh stiffening under your gentle touch. You licked your lips and glanced up.

He cleared his throat, finishing the entrance antiphon, and making the sign of the cross as you watched from below. When he began to speak again, you resumed stroking his arousal, trailing your digits over the length of his swelling cock, your other hand steadying at his tensing thigh.

“My brothers and sisters…”

Leaning forward, you grazed your lips over the cloth, and even through layers of fabric, you felt him twitch, his feet shifting apart as his toes searched to admonish you.

“...to prepare ourselves to celebrate the sacred _mysteries_ …”

The word was emphasized with a sharp nudge of his shoe to your knee, and you pouted, chastising him with a nip to the thighs. He choked on his words, and your mind flooded with unfamiliar memories-- _his_ memories--of muscular, naked thighs, ripe with punishment, fresh lacerations running in red bands across the skin. Then another flash--his cock, hard, _achingly_ hard, as he ripped the flogger across his leg. You heard him cry out in his own head--and then you were back.

“...let us call to mind our sins.”

It was silent, then. Grinning, you took the moment to test his strength. Your free hand moved to his other thigh, and you caressed him, working the tender, sensitive flesh in your palms through his pants. All the while, you ran your soft, warm mouth over his hidden erection. He cleared his throat again--obnoxious in the stark Catholic air--and you stifled a giggle, sucking wet marks into the fabric.

_Lord, give me strength..._

“Lord, we have sinned against you…”

Are currently sinning, you corrected mentally, while you reached up to remove the last barrier remaining between you and his cock. The congregation mumbled their repetition of Ren’s “Lord have mercy,” and you were thankful for them covering the sound of his pants being unzipped. Your eyes took in the physical proof of his atonement--angry red wounds, half-healed, marked the skin. Nuzzling against him, you kissed a few of the cuts and felt his muscles clench. 

 

“...show us your mercy and love.” 

Drawing closer, you planted your lips at the base of his erection and dragged them up the underside, inch by inch. The softest gasp left him, and you were both once more drowned out by the voices of the faithful.

_Oh, thank the--_

“May almighty God have mercy on us, forgive us our sins, and bring us to everlasting life.”

At his last word, you dug your claws into his torn flesh, wrapped your lips around the head of his dick, and slid it into your mouth. His entire body tensed--you heard his nails scratch the wooden podium and the air vacate his lungs while he fought to retain composure. 

_Fuck!_

Grinning, you squeezed the base of his cock, stroking it as you bobbed along on the first half of his shaft. You could take the entire thing, if you wanted--but he was massive, and you didn’t want to overwhelm him just yet. Instead, you hollowed out your cheeks, pressing your tongue into the smooth underside while you sucked his throbbing length. Following the veins along his shaft, you traced them to the tip, sealing your lips around the head as you swallowed the spit and precum that had leaked into your mouth.

Ren’s feet shifted again, spreading wider to allow him more leverage to lean into you. The church had gotten loud--they were singing, or reciting, you weren’t sure, and didn’t care--allowing you to moan onto his cock, pumping your hand along his length. He felt so thick and warm and hard in your grip--and you could hear the feedback from his mind, a lust-drunk panic as he clung to his sanity.

 _She needs to stop--I can’t do this--_ fuck, _that feels incredible… Just a little bit more, and I can stop, I can kick her off, I can--I can--_ Lord, _please_ …

You inched forward, bringing yourself closer to his abdomen, swallowing more of his cock, your hands moving now to cup his sac, the other massaging his inner thigh. Ren coughed, his hips snapping into you, the head of his dick hitting the back of your mouth with ease. Choking, you pulled away, squeezing his balls as punishment, and you heard a curse ring out in his brain, nails scraping the sides of the lectern.

He was doing pretty well, you figured. You licked a long, wet line up the underside of his dick, swirling your tongue around the tip and stifling a giggle when his hand groped the air, searching for your hair.

_Get back on my cock. I need more. More of that sweet, hot mouth..._

You tilted your head back, allowing his digits to brush over your jaw instead, amused to no end at his desperation. He gripped your face anyway, digging into your skin and struggling to pull you closer without betraying himself. Leaning away, you slipped from his grasp and he gave up, opting for the next best thing.

Wrapping his fingers around his dick, he pumped himself with as much discretion as he could muster. You kissed his thigh and he fumbled, grazing the tip of his length along your cheek and leaving a trail of precum. Just as you were about to nip his wrist and regain control, he yanked his arm back and you heard footsteps approach while his frustration nearly bubbled over. 

_Come_ on _!_

A voice spoke in low tones, reminding Ren that it was time for him to relinquish his place.

_Dammit!_

You sat, silent, eyes trained on his red dick, as he stuttered his way through his excuse. “I, uh… I was hoping to read this myself this week. If, uh, you don't mind.”

A pause. “Father… The reading of the--”

“I _know_ ,” Ren replied. “I--I know that. And your duties will resume next week.” His cock twitched--an appeal for your attention. You grinned, and decided to grant him that, skimming a fingertip up the underside of his shaft. “ _I-i-i-it’s just._ This once. I trust you can understand.”

“But the--”

“ _Yes_! I understand.” Ren sniffed. “Allow me to worry about the implications and consequences. Please.” He coughed, his cock twitching again. “We should keep from holding up the service any longer.”

_Go. Away._

Another pause, and the lector presumably nodded in acceptance before shuffling away. Disrupting the service order for his dick? What an exquisite example of Ren’s progress! You nearly squealed in delight, but chose instead to reward him, gripping his cock and swallowing it in one smooth motion. The relief was obvious in his voice when he began the first reading, grinding against your face as best he could. 

_Mmm, perfect..._

His length was thick between your lips, his pulse lighting over your teeth like a drum beat. Your hands resumed stroking his thighs, skimming over his balls, making him fight the urge to snap and jerk into your mouth. The crowd was saying something, singing something. Whatever it was, you were far more interested in making their priest squirm. Swallowing around him, your tongue massaged along the underside, drool starting to drip down your chin and onto your chest. It’d be even better if he could see you, stare into your eyes while you gagged around his cock--but you’d save that for another time.

 _Just need to cum--then I can concentrate. Just need to cum in that mouth…_ fuck…

Ren coughed. “The Word of the Lord.”

“Thanks be to God!” came the chorus of congregants.

You didn’t want him cumming just yet. That wasn’t very fun. Frowning, you pulled off, keeping yourself quiet as his enormous length fell from you. His nails raked across the wood.

_Bitch!_

“A reading from the Holy Gospel according to Matthew,” he said, sounding tired and dry.

“Glory to you, Lord!”

Ren drew in a long breath. “You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, ‘Do not murder,’ and ‘anyone who murders will be subject to judgment’...”

With a smile, you placed a chaste kiss at the tip of his cock, tongue darting out to collect the bead of precum--and his breath hitched. But he made a quick recovery, spreading his feet and making near-unnoticeable jabs with his hips into the air, seeking your mouth. 

“But I tell you that anyone who is angry with his brother will be subject to judgment … You have heard that it was said, ‘Do not commit adultery’...”

His desperation was far too amusing to stop your teasing just yet. You traced one line up his cock, then another, then another, watching it bob in frustration.

“But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart.”

_Suck my cock, you filthy whore._

“The Gospel of the Lord.”

The audience responded, “Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ!”

His cognitive dissonance rivaled any you'd ever witnessed, and you felt pride swell through you in response. Taking some slight pity on him, you kissed his sac while your hands found their way to his ass, massaging the tense muscles. Moving up, you sucked light marks into the skin of his pelvis, and he took a deep, shaky breath in a vain attempt to regain patience. 

_Please..._

“The Catechisms of the Church teach us a great many things, but today, I'd like to focus on chastity.”

You paused, not quite, but _almost_ in shock at his blatant hypocrisy. Warmth bloomed between your thighs, and you weren't sure what aroused you more--this, or his desperation for you. 

“... chaste person maintains the integrity of the powers of life and love placed in him. This integrity ensures the unity of the person; it is opposed to any behavior that would impair it. It tolerates neither a double life nor duplicity in speech...”

“You're disgusting,” you murmured, lips still pressed to him. Filling your lungs with his various scents--soap, musk, and the incense that clung to his cassock--you lightly scraped your teeth over the flushed, leaking head of his cock, and took him into your mouth once more. 

_Oh my fucking_ God, _yes..._

“... Chastity is a moral virtue. It is also a gift from God, a grace, a fruit of spiritual effort. The Holy Spirit enables one whom the water of Baptism has regenerated to imitate the purity of Christ.”

_Just let me fill your pretty throat._

He was getting close. As you took his throbbing cock to the back of your mouth, you heard the shuffling of the congregation behind you--then a cacophony of voices, pouring into the ceilings. They were reading something. Or something. Ren was talking, too--and you figured the noise was the perfect excuse to bring him straight to the edge. 

Confident that no one would hear you above their own recitation, you dug your nails into his backside--and he lurched forward, impressively not missing a beat. Groaning onto his length, you took him deep into your throat, your nose grazing his pubic bone, and hollowed your cheeks, sucking him deep and hard, your loud, sloppy noises drowned by the crowd. His muscles tensed and his knees began to shake, his hips begging to rock deeper into your hot wetness.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes,_ God, _please, let me cum, let me fucking_ cum _!_

You almost laughed--his thoughts were nigh-unintelligible, by now, just pleading, feral growls ricocheting through his mind. His cock pulsed on your tongue, echoes of his rapid heartbeat.

_Need to cum, need to cum before the fucking--shit--_

Before the what? Dammit. Priests had _things_ to do during Mass--you’d almost forgotten. Well, you couldn’t have him cumming yet. With a cruel smirk, you pulled off of his cock, sticky and dripping with your drool, and he pounded the lectern--passing it off as a moment of passion--a tangle of fury storming in his brain.

 _No, no, no, no, you fucking_ bitch _!_

You tapped a playful nail on his erection, as if scolding it for his impatience. Had the circumstances been different, you might have made some mocking remark about self-control, but your secret knowledge of his near palpable frustration would have to suffice. You gingerly placed his length, still slick with saliva and precum, back within the confines of his pants. 

_W-what? No, I can't--you can't do this!_

You shook your head as you refastened him, careful not to make a sound while he plodded through the Eucharist, voice dull with masked anger.

“... Blessed are you, Lord, God of all creation. Through your goodness...”

You buttoned the last of Ren's cassock, stretching and shifting to a more comfortable position. Mass seemed much longer spent _entirely_ on your knees. Maybe his absence would provide a welcome break and sharpen the edge you'd left him dangling from. What did he have to worry about, anyway? You'd made sure no one would be able to notice his boner and he'd spent most of the service halfway down your neck.

_Okay, make this quick, maybe she'll let me cum after._

“Yeah, _maybe_ ,” you muttered in quiet response, your malicious mind already figuring a way to prolong his need. Ren's hands dropped, clasped in front of him, and he maneuvered around the lectern. You held your breath, having no interest in being discovered as he moved to prepare the altar. 

Behind you, you heard the continuation of the Eucharist--more things you didn’t care about and had spent the last few months deliberately blanking out on. Becoming a church member, really. This was the most work you’d ever had to do for a soul. Not that you minded. Ren would be worth it--more importantly, he’d be the first one you’d get to keep. And everything about him was _perfect_. You’d do ten times the work if it meant making him _yours_. 

Something seemed wrong, though. He was moving awfully fast through the service. Anxiety wracked the brains of the congregants, their thoughts projecting into the air, rife with confusion, wondering--is something wrong? Is Father Ren all right? You could do nothing but smile. Yes, he was fine. _More_ than fine, really.

_This is wrong, this is wrong, I can’t--but I need--_

Okay, well, maybe not _more_ than fine, but he’d live.

“Let us proclaim the mystery of faith…”

You sighed. If you were being honest with yourself, you wanted your hands back on him, too. His cock had been warm steel on your tongue, so hard, so full of need. Through his brain, you could feel the heady pulse of lust through his veins, the vibrating ache in his body that was demanding him to return to the lectern so he could finally break, finally pour his hot cum down into your throat.

“Amen!” The crowd rose in unison--and Ren’s brain whined.

_Nothing’s working..._

As he moved through the first part of Communion, your impatience nearly rivaled his, amplified by your boredom. You sat, silent, and listened, Ren's movements easily identifiable amongst others-- heavy and hasty in comparison. His decreasing concern with arousing suspicion was double-edged and a mixture of excitement and slight fear kept you alert. 

_Peace be with you_ , along with the requisite _and also with you_ echoed throughout the church, myriad voices blending, and you temporarily lost focus on Ren. His agitated deliberations pulled you back in, nervous energy accentuating his desire to return to you, and he lamented the rituals he was bound to perform. 

_Please, please, for the love of… just let this be quick._

“... who takes away the sins of the world. Happy are those who are called to his supper.”  
The congregation responded with the necessary proclamation that they were not worthy to receive the Lord--or whatever it was--and began to file towards the altar to do just that. 

Ren took his own communion first, muttering about the blood and body of Christ before you heard a loud, sputtering cough. Concerned gasps rose from those closest to him and several voices asked if he was okay, if he needed water.

_Is this a prank? That taste--did someone put ash in the wine?_

Still clearing his throat, Ren deferred, “I...I think I might be coming down with something, t-that's all. I've felt a bit ill this morning, maybe it's not wise for me to hand out communion…”

“Oh, of course, Father,“ the lector chimed in, not missing a beat, “I can take over for you.”

The relief that radiated off of Ren’s body was so palpable that it shook you in your bones. “Thank you,” he said. “I do apologize for the--er-- _unconventional_ Mass.”

“No, not at all, Father.”

“Let me review the texts before we finish.” Ren’s voice almost betrayed his excitement.

You heard the movement of his feet scuffing behind the lectern, and then he’d returned, his cassock swaying at his ankles, obscuring his long, strong legs--and his swollen length. One of his hands fell to his crotch, rubbing himself through the fabric, satisfaction rippling through him. He’d been so, so patient. Licking your lips, you rustled through his trousers, exposing his warm, red cock. You grinned, curling your fingers around the shaft and pulling him free.

 _Oh,_ fuck, _yes…_

Saliva flooded your palate in anticipation, and you didn’t want to deny him a second longer. You gripped his firm thighs and kissed the weeping tip of his dick, pulling the hard, hot length into your mouth and taking him back into your throat. Ren shuddered, the wood creaking under the pressure of his grip, and after a moment’s hesitation, made centimeter-length snaps into you. Purring, you cradled his balls in your palm, caressing his thighs, your lips clamping around his length and sucking him back to his pulsing peak.

_That’s right, whore, suck on this cock, make me cum like the disgusting little bitch you are..._

You raised an eyebrow, but kept bobbing your head, working quickly to make up for lost time. He throbbed against your tongue, and you coaxed him towards his climax with eagerness. His stifled moans, locked behind tightly sealed lips, reverberated through his abdomen, and you responded in kind. Muscles clenching, his entire body was coiled and ready for release, more ready than he’d ever been. Wrapping your digits around the base of his erection, you slicked saliva and precum over his needy flesh.

_So close..._

You let him thrust into your neck, gulping around his length.

_That’s it…_

Lips flush to his pelvis, you hummed around him, feeling his pulse quicken against your tongue. In one fluid motion, you withdrew, dragging the wet warmth of your mouth off of him, inch by agonizing inch, until he was left swaying before you. Past the point of no return, his cock twitched and spurted sticky semen into nothingness. You sighed as a few drops landed on your face, but couldn’t help feeling a vile glee at the confused exasperation welling up inside of him.

_Fffuck…!_

Ren’s cum dribbled down his shaft, dripping in globs onto his shoes while his head spun. There were no words you could discern, not yet--just a typhoon of rage, born from the pressure of denial imploding inside of his nerves. Pursing your lips, you wiped the remnants of his cum from your face and sucked your digits dry, moaning at the sharp, salty taste igniting your tongue. Too bad--he was as delicious as ever.

“L-let us pray.”

_What the--where--why--_

His stifled, panting breath was the only thing you could hear in the church’s silence. The poor thing. He’d never lost an orgasm before, it seemed. You shrugged. Perhaps if he’d been less _demanding_ …

Ren shuddered. “The Lord be with you.” 

“And also with you.”

You grinned. He needed it.

Brimming with impish joy, you waited for the conclusion of Mass, watching his dick go limp in front of your eyes. Even as he finished the rites, his mind exploded with indignant anguish, cursing you, cursing himself, cursing God for the refusal of his release. And he remained there, bidding farewell to the attendants while you returned his flaccid cock to his pants, securing him behind his trousers and cassock. You considered wiping his cum from his shoes and the floor--but then you wondered what he’d done to deserve that favor.

_It’s not fair._

“Get rest soon, Father,” came a woman’s voice. “You’re starting to look unwell.”

“I’ll be just fine,” he replied. “Your concern is very kind.”

As the footsteps of the last congregant echoed throughout the now empty church, Ren crouched, glaring at you, forcing you to stay put. 

“Beautiful service, Father.”

_You insolent little…_

“I’m sure you took every word to heart, too, didn’t you?” His voice was dripping with scorn.

You leaned forward, still kneeling, and kissed him on the cheek. “Aww, don’t be like that.”

_Your disgusting game is over._

Before you could process what this could possibly mean, he pressed his mouth to yours. Better than last time, you noted. Your hand reached up to thread through his hair, but he seized your arm, jerking it behind you. Moaning, you bit his lip and he gripped your free arm and brought it to where he held your other one, long fingers encircling both wrists with ease.. 

You giggled. “Wow, what’s this? Some kind of _revenge_?” 

“Something like that,” he muttered at your lips, you felt cool stone beads wrap around your wrists, binding you.

You tugged at the restraints, playful at first, but soon becoming frantic as you realized that you were no longer privy to his thoughts. They didn’t budge, and you struggled again, finding no give to the beads--and your heart jumped out of your chest. Your strength was gone, too. Eyes widening, you snarled like a caged beast as the realization hit you. The rosary… how did he know?

“That’s better.” He smirked. “Now let’s continue our conversation elsewhere, shall we?”  
,  
Mouth agape and eyes like saucers, you marvelled at what was either more ingenuity than you’d anticipated or sheer dumb luck. You offered the last resistance you could, refusing to move. Ren sighed and clutched your elbow, wrenching you to your feet. 

“Are you really going to make this harder than it needs to be?”

“Yes? Of course I am? Why wouldn’t I?”

“Fine.” 

With little difficulty, he swept his left arm behind your knees, moving his right to support the rest of your body as he lifted you from the ground. You squirmed, uncomfortable in your bindings, and fuming at your inability to discern his intentions. This wasn’t _fair_. Paying your indignation no heed, he strode towards a side exit, leaving the church with you in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 is now complete! voidrot and I are so fucking happy that there are so many people willing to tag along with our descent into the fiery pits of Hell! We hope you continue to enjoy--and GASP a cliffhanger! Love y'all so so much!


	4. Look At Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You haven't seen the movie in years, but you're pretty sure this isn't how an exorcism is supposed to go.

“Get out.”

There was no way Ren thought it would be that easy. Growling, you squirmed against the far window of the backseat of his car, curling back your legs in warning. 

“Make me.” You narrowed your eyes. “Wouldn’t look good for the honorable Father Ren to be dragging a poor, innocent girl out of his car, would it?”

Ren raised a brow. “Your insolence is almost as infuriating as your wanton behavior.” With a sigh, he reached for your foot, and you snapped it forward, aiming for his face--but you missed. “ _Enough_.”

“No!” He’d bound you in a rosary already. Who knew what he had waiting in his home? “Grab me again and--and I’ll _scream_.”

“Fine.” 

Frowning, Ren leaned into the car, long arms stretching to your head--and one hand clamped around your mouth, while the other snatched your bound wrists. He pulled you forward, under his chest, and you squealed into his palm, thrashing and flailing your free limbs with little success. With your power gone, your muscles were mortal. Weak. Useless. The struggle was pointless. So you relaxed, falling limp--and he chuckled.

“Are you ready to behave?” His smirk was unnerving when you couldn’t hear his thoughts.

Jaw set solid, you nodded, glaring at him behind the muzzle of his massive hand.

“Good.” He removed his grip and tugged you forward again, leaning back and easing your feet onto the ground. His fingers were still secure in the beads. “Move.”

He guided you toward the rear entrance to the building he'd parked behind, careful to obscure your arms from prying eyes with his broad frame. Ushering you into the door of an old but well-kept three-flat, he nodded towards the white painted stairs. 

“Second floor.”

The wood creaked under your feet as you ascended, slow and defiant. Midday sun filtering through the thick, distorted glass windows at each landing cast a grey-golden light on the pale bricks, illuminating the stairwell just enough to see. You wondered just how dark it could get in here, trying to distract yourself from the panic that tightened your chest with each step. Failing miserably, you at least refused to consider any one of your frantic thoughts for long, opting instead to just exist in a cloud of anxiety.

Upon reaching his floor, Ren fiddled with his keys, still keeping one hand on your restraints. He unlocked the door and swung it open, urging you past the threshold and into his kitchen with a light shove. It was cleaner than you would have expected for a man living alone--although he never did strike you as a slob. Spotting a kettle on the outdated stove, you decided to try out his hospitality.

“Oh, would you mind making me so--”

“No.”

You pouted. “Can't I fini--”

“No.”

Without stopping to turn on the lights, he pushed you down the hall, past a couple of closed doors. You wondered what his bedroom looked like before you finally found yourself in the living room. 

It matched the aesthetic of the building--herringbone hardwood floors, well-used but decent quality furniture, and a few overfull bookshelves stacked against the walls. It was sparse, with little decor aside from an ornate, silver framed mirror built into the coat closet door. You strained to catch a glimpse of yourself--there's no way you weren't a mess--but he yanked you away. 

“Stay put.” 

Ren dropped his hand and you toppled onto the couch, not realizing how much you'd been relying on him for balance. Removing his shoes, he retreated back into the hall. 

“Okay, _bye_.” You pursed your lips, huffing out your indignation. But he didn’t respond.

In the silence, your mind and eyes continued to wander, following the blank walls down to the scuff on the clean hardwood, character scratched into the building years ago. Viney plants grew in the corners of the home, green tendrils spilling over the ceramic pots onto the floor. And on the coffee table, a fragrant herb--mint, you realized--just one of a few you noted around the room.

You snapped your head to the sound of returning footsteps--and there was Ren, bringing a hot, reluctant flush to your cheeks. He was dressed now in the same black trousers he’d had on, his high priest collar exchanged for a dark crew-neck t-shirt that hugged his muscular frame. Saliva accumulated inside your mouth as he collected a few books from one of the shelves, his biceps flexing with the slightest movement. Sure, you’d seen him naked. But this was different. Out of his stuffy robes, he was even _more_ alluring. 

Books in hand, he made his way to the couch, resting on the opposite side. He said nothing, choosing to instead thumb through one of the stiff hardbacks, brow furrowed in concentration. The vacuum of noise where his thoughts should be drove your heart against your sternum. Being unable to hear him was maddening. You needed to do something.

“Did you really just bring me here to ignore me?” You stuck out your bottom lip, leaning toward him. “You just want to look at me, don’t you?”

Ren grumbled, bending back and scooting away--but still said nothing.

This was becoming irritating. Inching closer, you scanned the text--something about possession, exorcism-- _fuck_. Your gaze darted between him and the text, blood careening through your veins. He couldn’t know that much--could he? Sweat beaded at the back of your neck. Did you really want to wait to find out?

You swallowed, drawing a slow breath through your nose. “Ky- _lo_ ,” you whined. He grumbled again, but you persisted, snuggling up to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He was so warm, so firm and strong--you couldn’t resist nuzzling into him, pressing your body into his. “ _Please_.”

Ren shifted--but didn’t push you off. A muscle in his jaw shuddered. “Hush. You’ve been indecent.”

You snatched at his reluctance to move away, clutching for dear life. Existential fear driving you to try anything, even sincerity, you sighed with apprehension. 

“I-I know.” Your voice hovered above a whisper, cracking with anxiety. “But isn't there any way you'll listen? I'm in a pretty... vulnerable spot right now.”

“I'm aware.”

“Okay, so… You could do anything you wanted to me. Or make me do anything. How can I prove myself?” 

The last time you'd been this honest, he hadn't really acknowledged it. No, instead, he'd impaled you on the church altar, in more ways than one. 

Your eyes wandered to the page, noticing that it was the same as a moment ago. Craning your neck to glimpse his face, it was clear that he had stopped reading. He was lost in thought, probably trying to decide your fate, and you grit your teeth at your inability to delve in. 

He turned his head to consider you. “All right. You want something to do? Why don't you clean up that mess on my shoes?”

You glanced at his black Oxfords, abandoned near the coat closet and still adorned with the near-dry remnants of his ruined orgasm. No big deal. 

“Okay. You'll have to untie me though.”

“No, I won't. I think that tongue of yours could do a little more work today.”

Scrunching your nose, you turned back to him. “You can't be serious.”

He shrugged, head angling back toward his book.

“Wait, wait!” Icy terror gripped you and you conceded the upper-hand--for now. “Fine.”

Sighing, you stood and made your way over to his shoes, gaze drifting between his face--expectant, guarded--and the shoes. Even if you couldn’t hear his thoughts, you knew he still had one weakness: you. 

You sunk to your knees, leaning toward the ground, raising your ass in the air while you brought your mouth to the toe of his shoe. Training your eyes on his, you dragged your tongue along the stain, palate flooded with the taste of leather and cum, and you groaned in satisfaction. He frowned, turning back to the book, but you knew from the twitch below his lid you’d caught his attention. Taking the tip of the toe between your teeth, you moaned, wiggling your hips.

Ren swallowed. “Stop that.”

Humming, you drew back, licking another long line along the spot of his seed. “Stop what?”

He met your gaze with narrowed lids. “You know exactly what.”

“No,” you purred, swirling saliva over his dried semen. “I don’t think I do.” 

He said nothing, following your tongue as you led it up and down the tip of his shoe. So you shifted, angling your ass toward him, giving him a glimpse of your exposed cunt under your skirt. You could _feel_ his stare stick to you, could _feel_ him grow hungrier, even while his eyes devoured the sight of your pussy. 

“ _Stop_.”

A deep sigh left your chest, and you moved to the other shoe with a wicked grin. “Make me.”

Slamming his book onto the coffee table, his sighed, jaw set and breath heavy. He was either angry or aroused or--you shuddered--both. Hunched over, he rested his elbows on his knees and glared, pupils darkening from behind raven tendrils of unruly hair. You noted with silent celebration that he hadn't bothered to mark the page he'd been on. Good. 

“You're filthy.”

“Am I? At least I'm no hypocrite, like you.”

He stood, fuming. “Because of you! Be-because you made me…!” He faltered, words lost to frustration and inherent knowledge of his own guilt. 

“Oh please. You loved it, and you love this.”

Striding towards you, he licked his lips, his voice low and almost threatening. “You're shameless. Look at yourself.”

“I know what I look like.”

Lowering himself to the ground behind you, he grabbed your arm and tugged you closer, pulling your back to his broad chest. Wrapping his right hand around your throat, he forced you to face the mirror and allowed his left to rest on your leg, far too close to the hem of your skirt to be coincidence. 

Breath hot at your ear, he met your gaze in the reflection. “I said, look at yourself, whore.”

You did as he commanded, pulse echoing through your head. Noting his digits moving up your splayed thigh, you drank in the sight of just how enormous he was in comparison to yourself. 

At this point, you knew you had him. Your still-bound wrists moved, palms brushing over the cloth of his trousers. Intentionally or not, he rutted into you. His eyes were dangerous and feral, and you didn't have to read his mind to glean that he was aching to take advantage of your current state. 

“You’re disgusting.” His voice was more breath than tone, his hand skating higher on your thigh, only inches from your pussy. “Just _look_ at you.”

Ren’s fingers grazed the lips of your cunt, tracing over the mound, sliding between the slit and grazing over your clit. You moaned, squirming against his palm, and he hissed, squeezing your neck, mouth dark in your ear.

“ _Quiet_.”

His hips rocked along your open hands, his growing bulge skimming your touch, his restraint still too tight to allow a full thrust. You heard him swallow, his breath shaky and panting as his digits parted your folds, coating themselves in your wetness, ghosting over your entrance and back over your aching nub. Even with his palm on your throat, you whimpered, unable to suffocate the shiver of lust that surged through you. Ren growled, jerking you closer so that your palms cradled his covered cock. Black, wild eyes flitted between your own gaze and the sight of his hand nestled between your parted thighs.

“Absolutely _repulsive_ ,” he murmured, before pressing his lips to the exposed column of your neck. “Open for me, willing to let me do _anything_ …”

You clenched, shuddering under his touch, your brain fogging with desire. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been so vulnerable, so helpless. And you wanted more.

“ _Anything_ ,” you echoed, curling your digits around his arousal. 

Shifting your wrists for the longest range of movement the rosary would allow, you managed to unfasten his pants. His stiffening length exposed, you ran a thumb along the sensitive head, and it throbbed in response. He moaned into your neck, loosening his grip just enough to uncover a greater expanse to his warm, sucking mouth. 

The fingers at your sex moved up, grazing your pelvis, dragging your own juices over your skin. Two sets of eyes, equally entranced, watched while he unfastened your shirt, each button slipping aside with ease under his dextrous digits. When he reached the top, the last of his restraint was spent parting the cloth that still covered your breasts. Pushing your shirt just off of your shoulders, as far as he could in your current position, he watched with a mix of reverence and ravenous need as you were exposed 

“God, I've never seen anything so beautiful…” He trailed off, lips finding your collarbone, palm kneading the supple flesh of your breasts. 

You writhed, goosebumps spreading over your skin and warmth ebbing through you. “I thought I was repulsive.”

The hand at your throat moved to grip your face, squeezing hard. “Still obnoxious, though. The only thing I want to hear out of that depraved mouth is _yes, Father_. Is that clear?”

He let go, expecting a meek answer. But that would never truly be your style. “So I'm allowed to call you that now?”

Snarling, his palm smacked down hard on your cunt, and you yelped as pain shot through you, jolting against his chest. His cock slid up the cleft of your ass, and his snarl deepened to a purr, his hips snapping into you while he pinched your jaw.

“Be a good girl, for once in your pathetic life.”

This was too delicious. How could you say no? 

“ _Yes, Father_.”

“Mm.” Ren rocked into you, smearing precum aross your backside, his fingers finding your folds and spreading them open. He dropped his mouth, humming low into your neck. “You’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Yes.” He took your flesh between his teeth, nipping and suckling, lids falling shut in utter rapture. “Yes, you are.”

He moaned, lost in his own perversion, guiding his dick along your ass, his digits testing and toying with your pussy. Every time he grazed your clit, you whined, wanting more--but he was more interested in teasing you, in making you drip. His lips moved up your neck, to your ear, nibbling at your lobe as he groaned.

“ _Christ_ , you’re so wet already… You want me, don’t you?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Let me hear you say it.”

You shivered. “I want you so _badly_ , Father…”

Ren sucked in air through his teeth, hips jerking against you. “Fuck.”

You followed the movement of his fingers with your hips, trying to catch any friction at all on your clit. He caught on quickly and pulled away whenever your breath hitched, refusing more than a split second of attention where you needed it most. Leaning your head back onto his shoulder, you closed your lids, basking in the feeling of his hands memorizing you. 

Without warning, he slid a long digit into your hot core to the first knuckle, soon followed by a second. He was more careful than he’d been previously, taking his time to explore you, stroking your sopping walls. His erection pressed into you from behind, needier than ever, and you tried to wrap your fingers around it as best you could. He thrust up between your palms, panting as they slickened around his leaking cock. Your pelvis tilted, trying to angle his digits just right and hoping to grind into the heel of his palm.

“I don’t think so.” He dragged them back out, leaving you clenching around nothing. 

Your chest heaving, and you widened your eyes, meeting his in the silvery glass. “ _Please_ , Father.”

He ignored your plea, instead considering his fingers, glossy with your arousal. “Vulgar thing. I’ve barely touched you.” 

Without another word, Ren ran his long, pink tongue over them, lapping at the fluid you’d coated them in. His lids fluttered, and he groaned, pushing them into his mouth and sucking them clean. You whined, squirming again, cunt clenching in want, but his grip on your neck was firm, and you stilled.

“ _God_ , you’re incredible.” Hissing another ragged breath through his clenched jaw, he dragged his digits back over your clit, gathering more of your juices as you mewled. “You want me to taste you again?”

You nodded. “Yes, Father.”

“Yes, you do. Such a needy girl.”

Lust was liquid in your blood, and you were drunk on it. You could only watch, intoxicated, as his cum-covered fingers traced over your naked nipple, painting it with your desire. His touch was like fire, and he drew tiny circles around the sensitive peak, his gaze locked onto yours, observing every little twitch and moan. Behind you, his cock pulsed in your hands, his hips still rocking into your grip, his breath heavy and soft at your neck. 

“You like that, don’t you?” he murmured. “You like when I play with you.”

Every muscle below your waist clenched. “Y-yes, Father.”

“Mm.”

He jerked your neck back and leaned forward, leading your nipple into his mouth. Groaning, he latched on, sealing his lips around the stiff bud, flicking it with his tongue while he sucked it swollen, pleasure washing over you. Overwhelmed by your taste, he moaned, thrusting faster into your palms, and you gripped his dick tighter, your body hot with longing.

Gasping, he released you, mouth moving to your neck, his voice a primal growl. “You’re going to keep being good for me while I play with your perfect little body, aren’t you?” He kissed your heartbeat--it was pounding under his fingertips. “Hm?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, core clenching. “Yes, Father.”

Biting your lip, you tried not to show the utter delight that coursed through you in response to his increasing depravity. You hadn't dared to hope for such a quick descent, but here he was, lust-wracked and unconcerned with anything else. 

The sound of his voice, guttural and dark, sank its growing fangs into your brain and devoured your attention. “This,” he said, digits circling your entrance, “is all I can think about anymore.” 

You tried to goad him on, pumping his length, aching for him to fill you. The thick muscles of his thighs twitched, tense with need and with pain while his self inflicted wounds were rubbed open at your skin. Drawing back from your sex, he swiped his fingertips over the blood that trickled down his leg and brought them up, light catching the deep crimson that dyed his digits. 

“Do you see how you've destroyed me?” His snarl was almost unrecognizable as human. “ _Answer me_.”

“Yes, I see, Father!”

“Be a good girl and taste it.” 

Without waiting for you to reply, he smeared them over your mouth, tracing your lips before thrusting between them. The flavor of iron mingled with that of your own fluids, sharp on your tongue. He watched you savor the taste, his gaze fiendish, sending chills down your spine.

“How is that?” Ren’s smirk was devious as he pulled away his fingers.

You gasped, licking your lips. “It’s good, Father.”

His hand, still wet with your spit, cracked a harsh slap across your ass, and you whimpered, head lolling while his fingers burrowed into the flesh. “You’re irresistible.” Hot breath buffeted your shoulder as his mouth left hungry wet marks on your skin. “I think about fucking you every morning and every night.” He moaned, driving himself wild. “I think about this…” Long fingers crawled over to your pussy, rubbing tiny loops around your clit. “I think about how you felt around me… _fuck_.”

Ren wanted this just as badly as you did--but now you regretted stealing his orgasm. He had more control over himself than you’d ever seen, and it was only intensifying your craving. You groaned, grinding your hips into his palm, your chest swelling with every shallow breath. 

Sweat pearled in a halo around your forehead, his quick movements dragging you up to your peak. Moans escaped you in broken gasps, your lids threatening to close--but you didn’t want to miss a moment of how you looked under his hands, how his eyes looked as they peeled you apart.

“You’re being such a good girl,” he whispered. “Good girls get their needy cunts filled with cum.”

A lewd groan left your lungs. Fuck, he was filthy. And _fuck_ , you wanted him.

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” His fingers stroked faster over your clit, his cock fucking your half-fist while he panted. “You want me inside that _tight_ little cunt?”

Every word that left you was without shame. “Yes, Father, yes, please! I want you, Father!”

“Mmm, of course you do.”

You huffed as his hands left your body, but it wasn’t long before he cupped your bottom and lifted you, pulling you closer. His erection skimmed the lips of your pussy while he oriented himself, unfamiliar with this angle, and, finding your dripping core, he sank in to the hilt. A sharp cry ripped from your throat as you registered the sweet sting of his dick splitting you open. Louder still was the savage moan that resonated through his cavernous chest, near-deafening before he muffled himself with your neck.

Still groping the swell of your ass, Ren slid you along his length, head thrown back and eyes closed in the sincerest prayer he’d ever offered. You leaned against him, rocking your body with his as he caressed the curve of your hips and splayed his long digits over your thighs. He straightened, resting his chin on your shoulder and his thick arms around your waist. His grip rigid, he pulled you open, exposing you to the gleaming reflection. Covetous ecstasy morphed his features while he watched your flushed cunt consume his dick. 

“Fffuck… that’s it. That’s perfect.” His sinister purr snaked its tendrils into you, stoking the flames in your brain and body alike.

Overtaken with bliss, he burrowed into your shoulder, biting mottled blossoms into your skin. Dragging his mouth over you, he descended, sucking into your collarbone before moving up to your jaw. You turned to him and caught his plush bottom lip between your teeth. He kissed you back, ardent and greedy, his tongue claiming your mouth and his hand dipped back between your legs, fingertips curling towards your clit.

Moaning, you canted your hips back into his, grinding down, seeking his touch on your nub. Ren had flayed your nerves--every inch of you clamored for his touch, your sensitive flesh burning to be smothered with his own. The kiss deepened, your tongue twisting with his in a wet fury, your whimpers growing louder, more desperate, the whole of you wanting and needing more. 

A brief urge to scrape your nails through his hair and push him onto the floor blinked in your mind--how wonderful it would be to ride his cock until he was in tears. But he snarled, teeth cutting your lip as he drove his length hard into your pussy, and the desire vaporized. He was getting better, you’d give him that much--he held you close, plunging over and over into your warm core, his grunts snuffed while he kept his lips locked to yours. God, he was massive--he stretched you wider with every thrust, heat numbing you to your knees, the friction on your clit driving you rabid.

His chest heaved at your back, another groan escaping when you clenched around him, and you pulled away, gasping. Your reflection was foreign--red, shaking with pleasure and with the power of his hips. Predatory, he met your eyes, the sight of your gaping mouth only making him fuck you harder, his free hand going back to wrap around your throat.

“You like this, don’t you?”

You nodded. “Yes, Father!”

Lip furling, he slammed into you, and you squeaked, noise hiccuped by the increasing pace of his hips. “ _God_ , you feel so _good_ … are you going to-- _oh, Christ_ \--are you going to be a good girl and cum on my cock?”

Claws of bliss shredded your sanity. “Oh, _yes_ , Father, yes!”

His lips grazed your ear one last time and you felt his words more than you heard them. “Then show me how good you are.”

Under other circumstances, you might have been resentful of the level of control he displayed over you, but you couldn’t care less right now. Driven nearly to madness with carnal need, and Ren’s fierce stare, you jerked your hips, determined to feel his dick dragging along your walls as your cunt clenched ever tighter around him. You wanted to empty him, to coax every last bit of his desire for you out into the open and feel it cascading from you.

He massaged your clit, the pressure uneven as a result of his increasingly desperate movements. A vigorous thrust, a brush of his fingers, and you were gone, tumbling over the precipice as the warm flood of your orgasm radiated through your limbs.

Gasping, Ren gripped your hips and held you in place while you writhed, driving deeper and deeper into your heat. You slumped into him, brain liquefied and thighs twitching as overstimulation deluged your nerves. 

“Ohh…!”

He throbbed inside of you, cock pulsing as his own climax washed over him. Wrapping his muscular arms around your waist, he held you tight while he filled you with his seed, watching with satisfaction as it dribbled in fat white drops out of your pussy and onto the hardwood underneath. 

You tilted your head back on his shoulder, chest swelling. “Please… don’t make me… clean that up.”

Ren exhaled sharply through his nose and you felt his lips curl into a smile against your neck. “Why not? You did such a good job before.”

A shudder shook you--this was a game you could keep playing. You turned your head, trying to catch his mouth with your own. “Oh, really?” Your lips met in a soft, open-mouthed kiss. “Maybe I’m tired of cleaning after your mess.”

“Mhm.” His kiss was sloppy and wet, unrefined from the thickness of lust, and he nuzzled into you. “I thought you wanted to be a good girl.”

“I’ve never been _good_.” 

He bit your lip. “Stop teasing.”

The words wanted to roll off your tongue: _make me_. But something about his dominance was invigorating. He’d just fucked you so thoroughly--you felt it was only right you did what he asked. “I _suppose_ , if you’re going to be like that.”

He snickered, pulling out, and you caught his eyes in the mirror--they were stuck to the sight of his cum leaking from your abused pussy. Your legs wobbled, unsupported, and you almost toppled forward, under the assumption he’d be assisting you turn. But he hadn’t--instead, he was expectant, staring at you as his softening cock dripped with his seed. 

“Gosh, you’re a gentleman.”

Ren sneered. “ _Clean it_.”

Rolling your eyes, you bent to the floor, dragging your tongue along the puddle, groaning as the bitter, tangy taste of your intermingled cum hit your mouth. Ren growled in appraisal, and you tilted your head, meeting his vindictive gaze, enraptured with your submission. Clearing the last bits from the floor, you moved to his dick, sucking and licking at the sensitive skin, and he hissed, hips jerking away when you grazed the tender head. You backed off, licking your lips of his cum, pulling yourself back to sitting on your heels. 

You met his stare again--as his desire died, they filled with something purer, something intimate. He was in awe of you, you realized, his mouth parted in admiration, and he held you in his sight for a long moment, chest rising with gentle, restrained breath. Then he clutched your arms, tugging you toward him, his irises molten and sticking like honey to your own, coating your insides with a foreign, warm security. 

Without a word, he crushed your lips with his, gripping your face with his hands, working his mouth over yours in a deep, slow, kiss. You growled, returning his affection, letting him taste the result of his longing on your tongue. It lasted for only a brief, sweet moment before he released you.

He was gasping without being out of breath. “You are…” His hands fussed with the rosary around your wrists, loosening it. “You’re so…” A quick tug set you free, and the tempest of his mind crashed into yours.

_Beautifulincrediblegorgeousirresistibleaddictiveperfect--_

Everything went blank in his brain while his gaze drifted and caught his own body in the mirror--and you saw him as he saw himself--sweaty, flushed, cock out, bloody thighs, fingers still tangled in his rosary. 

_Fuck. No. I--this can’t--this is pointless. What do I..._

Wincing, you massaged away the sore indents the beads had left around your wrists. Ren was still silent, lips pursed and eyes restless as he realized the implications of what he saw in the mirror. 

_She did this. She must have._

“You… did you… You didn't?” He was so cute when he was in shock. 

“You're, uh… gonna have to be more specific, Kylo.”

_But there’s no way._

“Weren't you, you know… restrained? B-by the rosary?”

Be gentle, you reminded yourself. You nodded. “Entirely.”

“So how did you...”

“I only did as you asked.”

His brow was furrowed, jaw hanging open. “But if you didn't... then I just…” He shook his head. “I needed you.” Golden-brown eyes, shimmering with earnest confusion, met your gaze. “It was like… I felt like I was holding my breath.”

You blushed--part of you taken aback by how strong of an effect his words had on you. “Well, that's very flattering. But I haven't done anything without your consent.”

_No. That can't be right. I tri--_

Sighing, you shrugged. “You, uh, seem to be overestimating my influence.” You smoothed your skirt over your thighs. “I can only show you what's already there.”

_What’s already there..._

Ren blinked, staring into the floor before his eyes floated back to your face. “What now?”

You were sincerity incarnate. “What do you mean?”

He looked bashful and dropped his head while he considered his words. 

_I need you._

Noticing that he had neglected to redress, he cleared his throat in misplaced embarrassment and tucked himself back into his pants before quickly refastening them. “There's no going back. Is there?”

An impish grin brightened your features. “Go back? Why would you want to do that?”

Brows furrowed, he waved has as he struggled to find the words. “No. No, I mean--”

Your smile widened and you shifted, sitting next to him and leaning your head on his slouched shoulder. Nuzzling him, you buttoned your shirt. “I know what you mean and, uh, you're stuck with me. _If_ that's what you want.”

 _Yes. Yes, yes. Please_. Please.

His expression softened and he met your eyes in the reflection. “But you’re--you…” Words were a whispers from his lips. “How?” 

You shook your head, grinning. Springing to your feet, you straightened your skirt and smoothed your hair, heart racing with excitement. This was it. Just one more step. So close. 

“Meet me at dawn in your office next Sunday. And, uh, can I get a ride home?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, only one chapter left of our sweet demon!Reader and perverted priest! voidrot and myself have REALLY enjoyed writing this and we're so pleased that other people enjoy it, too. We hope to have the final installment up in a couple of weeks, but until then, happy sinning, haha! We love y'all SO much and your feedback makes our day. So thank you, thank you! <3


	5. I'm Going to Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything you've worked for was in preparation for this. You just don't want to screw it up.

For some reason, there was a part of you that hesitated at the church doors. You’d told Ren to meet you here at dawn, and at the time, you’d been so certain he’d follow through. But your confidence was faltering as the sun winked in orange rays over the horizon. The thought of him standing you up almost brought a twinge to your heart. It would be so _unfair_.

With a trembling hand ( _that_ was annoying), you reached for the handle, gripped it, and tugged--flinging it open with ease. Every drop of doubt spilled onto the ground, and you drew in a long breath through your nose. One step into the church, and then another, dragging the heavy door closed behind you. It shut with a resonant _click_ , and you chewed your lip, crossing through to Ren’s office.

Morning light streamed through his open door into the dark hallway, a golden ray of invitation, dancing with motes of dust. A sign, perhaps--a sign for what, you weren’t sure. You were certain God wouldn’t approve of anything that was about to take place in that office.

Peeking in through the side, you glimpsed Ren. He was hunched over his desk, forehead resting on his fists, rosary bound around his palm, his brow tight, his mouth mumbling something unintelligible. His mind was too busy to determine a single thought, but the tension radiating off of him was thicker than the air.

You stepped forward, admiring how the early sun shimmered over the black waves of his hair. You wondered what it’d be like to wake up next to him every morning.

“Good morning, Father.”

Ren flinched, swallowing and meeting your gaze. He was relieved. And terrified. “Yes. Good morning.” 

His anxiety was contagious, and even though you'd memorized the binding ritual long before you'd taken human form, you were struck with fear. What if it was done incorrectly and he was bound to someone--or something--else? What if his fear got in the way and the binding didn't take? Providing comfort wasn't really your strong suit, and you had no idea how prepared he was. 

Ren peered at you expectantly. “Are you okay?”

You offered a small smile to placate him, grateful that he could not hear your thoughts. “I-I'm fine. Just a bit earlier than I'm used to.” No need to admit that you'd never done this before. 

For all his former self-delusions, he was an intuitive man, and you were not particularly convincing. 

“All right... just remember that you haven't given me much to go on.”

_More like nothing._

“What would you like to know?”

_What is this about? Am I going to Hell? Will it be painful? How can I trust you? Will I d--_

“Everything.”

You sighed, dropping the bag you'd brought and meandered around to his side of the desk, hiking yourself onto the edge. Your legs dangled above the floor, dress riding up your thighs, and his eyes coveted the exposed skin for only a second before returning to your gaze. Grinning, you leaned back onto your palms.

“What we’re going to do is…” You pursed your lips. How should you even explain it? “Your soul will belong to me.”

Ren balked, blinking. “ _What_?” He inched back in his chair. “Then I’m going to Hell.”

“Well,” you said, shrugging, “no, not necessarily…”

“Not _necessarily_?” Shaking his head, he made to stand, but you panicked, shoving him back into his seat. He growled. “Don’t do this.”

_This was foolish._

“If you’ll just listen--”

_I’m going to Hell._

“--just let me explain what I mean--”

_She’s going to kill me, and I’m going to Hell._

“--because I really think you’ll under--”

_You’re an idiot, Ren. But this is what you deserve. Look at everything you’ve done. You’re a heathenous, demonic--_

“Kylo!” you snapped. His silent fretting throbbed between your temples, driving your pulse through the ceiling. “Are you listening to me?”

He swallowed, shifting under your stare. “Yes.”

“You can’t escape what you’ve already done,” you said. “But if you’re mine, I can protect you. Guide you. Keep you safe.” With a soft smile, you reached for his hand, covering his knuckles with your palm. “You won’t have to deny your own nature anymore.”

Ren blinked, eyes drifting to the sight of your comparably tiny hand wrapped around his. Chin trembling, he turned his wrist, folding his fingers around yours, thumb stroking your skin, relishing the rush he received from your touch.

_I can’t let this go. Ever._

“And I’ll get to be with you?” he murmured, watching while he traced over the little joints in his grip. 

Heart skipping, you squeezed him. “Yes,” you replied. “You’ll be mine, and mine alone.”

A slow breath rose in his chest and escaped through his nose. His mind was racing. Years of internal struggle. Pain. The frustration of giving in. The guilt of doing it again. The rage at his own incompetence and delusion and justification for the most minor engagements, the complete denial of half of his needs, half of his existence. And here you were, offering him refuge. Offering him the first and only thing he’d ever truly wanted: You.

“Fine,” he said, meeting your eyes. “I consent.”

You nodded, an apprehensive half-smile softening your face. “Okay.”

Limbs fueled by nervous energy, you slid off the desk to close the door. Securing the lock, you retrieved your bag from the floor and Ren watched with interest as you dumped its meager contents-- a scroll and an ivory handled stiletto-- onto his desk. He raised his eyebrows when he spotted the knife, but said nothing. 

“Okay so… You have like… some incense and a couple candles in here, right?”

Pursing his lips, he rummaged through a desk drawer and pulled out two slender white tapered candles, resting them next to the scroll. He leaned back, considering the cluttered shelves lining the walls before standing and strolling towards the two cherry wood bookcases that flanked the tall stained glass window on the east wall. Frankincense wafted through the air as he retrieved a tarnished censer and two simple candle sticks from a shelf you couldn't have hoped to reach. 

“Will these do? I could probably find more if necessary.”

“No, those are perfect!” You realized too late how eager you sounded, and backpedaled. “I mean, yeah, they'll… they'll work.”

_She's so cute._

Outwardly, he pretended not to notice, and resumed clearing the space on his desk. “So, should I light these, or…”

“Not yet.” You arranged the censer in front of the candles, forming a small triangle. The censer wobbled when you planted a rod of incense inside of it. That would have to do. 

Nodding, his eyes roamed towards the scroll. “What's that?”

Scarlet seared your cheeks. “Oh, that. Um…” You couldn’t seem like you didn’t know what you were doing. You waved it off like an afterthought. “Just some incantations, you know.”

Ren raised a brow. “Hm.” Skeptical, he reached for it--and your heart sunk. Grimacing, your hand darted to snatch it away, but he clutched it and reeled back, frowning. “Some incantations?”

You swallowed. Maybe he wouldn’t know. You hadn’t even read over them, yet. “Yep. They can be helpful in sealing the bond.”

“Really.” He pulled it open, his eyes scanning the paper. A small smirk appeared on his lips. “Helpful.”

“Yes?” You swallowed again. “Is there--is there a problem?”

_Adorable._

A light chuckle escaped him and he met your gaze, furling up the scroll. “This is nonsense.”

Pulse skipping, your face fell. “W-what?” 

He tossed it onto the table, his smirk breaking into a grin. “The order of those words. It’s nonsense. It’s made-up.”

You scrambled for the scroll, ripping it open and mumbling your way through the words. Shit. He was right. Your chin quivered. “No…”

“What are you doing with that?” His brow was furrowed. “What purpose does that serve?”

Sighing, you folded it and tossed it on the chair, rubbing your forehead. “None, I guess.” What a waste of money.

_What’s going on?_

Dammit. He was getting antsy, now. No point in keeping the facade if it was going to make him bail. “I guess, the thing is… I was nervous.”

“Nervous.”

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “I haven’t... “ Frowning, you chewed on your cheek. “You’ll be my first.”

He blinked. “What?”

Nodding, you continued, “Yeah. First one who belongs to me.” A blush crept over your face. “And, look, I’ve memorized everything, but I was nervous I’d mess it up, so I went to some shop and asked the woman there for something that might help. I thought… I don’t know.” You glanced at the curled-up paper. “I want this to go right.”

Ren’s eyes drifted between you and the scroll, a tinge of pink glowing on his cheeks. 

_She wants_ me.

“It’ll be something new for both of us, then.” He moved around from his desk, long legs carrying him to you within only a few strides.

 _Out of anyone in the world, she wants_ me.

His face was solemn. Sincere. “I’m ready.”

“O-okay. So.” It was time. Your heart was thudding in your chest, threatening to crack your ribs at any moment. “I'm gonna… undress you now, and then you have to undress me, all right?”

_Anything._

“Of course.”

Starting at the high neck, you pulled open each button of his robes, one by one, your fingers trembling as they popped open the black snap fasteners. His office was silent, tiny clicks echoing in the background of your quiet breath, and when you reached his waist, you swallowed, wanting to avert your gaze. Your digits slipped on the next button, and you cursed yourself, fidgeting as you released it. If Ren was fazed, he didn’t show it--his lips were sealed and his mind was blank, focused entirely on the slow, gentle movements of your hands.

It didn't make sense to you, why this should be so nerve-wracking after the kinds of things you'd done to each other. But your pulse was like a frightened rabbit’s and your palms were starting to sweat.

You finished with his cassock--the black robe hung open, now, draped over his powerful shoulders. As you reached up and slid it from his frame, you swallowed again, still unable to meet his eyes. You were afraid. Afraid that if you did, he’d be able to see _everything_. Your vulnerability, your hesitation, your self-doubt. This was all so unfamiliar to you. Too unfamiliar. You hadn’t anticipated it.

With the heaviest, most austere part of his outfit now on the floor, you drew in a long breath, working now on the black, woven dress shirt, ignoring the irritating quiver of your chin. These buttons were a bit smaller, requiring some effort to slide free--but Ren still said nothing, so patient, his chest rising and falling with steady breath. That finished, you pried it, too, from his figure, peeling it down his arms and onto the ground.

Now, you tugged at the hem of his undershirt, a wordless demand for his assistance. He raised his arms to make your job easier, and you pulled it over his head, biting your lip while you watched his muscles ripple with each shift. Sweat was beading at your nape, now--but you were determined. Moving to his trousers, you were careful with his belt--it looked pretty nice, after all--unlatching it and slipping it through the loops onto the floor. 

Without even prompting him, Ren stepped out of his shoes, and you blushed, unfastening his pants and rolling them along his hips, taking his undergarments with it. You pushed them over his half-hard cock and down his muscular thighs, until all of his clothing lie in a pile on the floor. The heat spilling from his body was only making you warmer--or maybe it was finally being able to see him like this. 

His figure was carved from marble--everything from his broad chest to the sharp taper of his abdomen looking smooth and radiant in the brilliant morning sun. A shiver ran up your spine. 

He was perfect.

You were too focused on the process to poke into his thoughts--and when he moved, you were astounded at the devotion you felt flood from him when he began to reciprocate. 

_How could I have ever thought this was wrong?_

Comforted, you closed your eyes and let his reverent hands trail along you, coasting over your curves, recalling every slope and dip of your figure as they moved. Long fingers grazed your thighs as he reached down to hike up your dress, skating your skin as they pulled at the hem. 

_She's so beautiful…_

You flushed, stretching your arms up, goosebumps rushing your flesh as your belly and breasts were revealed. He stepped closer, almost embracing you with his firm, solid strength while he gently slipped it off and tossed it aside. 

Something was shaking--and you were mortified to discover it was you. Shuffling off your anxiety, you met his eyes. They were clear--clearer than your mind felt--and you dropped your head, moving around him to the candles at his desk. Fuck. Matches. You started to speak, but found your tongue scraping like sandpaper at your palate. Your mouth was drier than a salt mine.

“You, um. You have any matches? Or a lighter?” You’d already begun examining the expanse of his desk.

Ren didn’t move. “In the drawer.”

Lips tight, you leaned over his desk, pulling open the center drawer and hunting for a box. Your fingers brushed the rough panel of what could only be a matchbox--and you snagged it. “Right. Of course.” 

Jaw petrifying, you pulled out a match and swiped it over the striker. Nothing. You swiped again. To no avail. Growling, you tossed the match across the room and retrieved another one, quaking hands fumbling with the tiny stick. You passed this one along the striker--but were gifted with no result.

“Dammit!” you mumbled. But before you could toss a second match, Ren was behind you, his skin hot on yours, his body enveloping you with ease. “Oh--I…”

He was silent, taking your hands in his, closing your grip around the box and guiding your other hand to strike the match in a single, fast flick. The stick roared to life, the smell of sulfur clouding the air as the fire ate its way down the wood. Ren rested his chin on your head, leading the flame from candle, to candle, to incense--and then plucked it from your fingers, wagging it out in the air.

If you were being honest, your pride was a bit wounded--after all, what kind of demon had trouble summoning fire? But you knew that was silly, knew that the nature of taking a soul as your own meant something more akin to partnership, and so you unclenched your jaw and accepted his help, thanking him with a quick squeeze of his hand.

He responded in kind, then stepped back and waited for you to continue, respectful of your apparent authority. Clearing your throat and closing your eyes, you took several deep breaths, filling your lungs with the dense, sweet smoke. You concentrated on the intrinsic power that filled you, that made you so much more than you appeared. 

After several moments of meditation, your mind had drifted into another realm, and you began mumbling the names of those entities whose energy would form the spiritual glue necessary to bind. One by one, their presence filled the very space you occupied, swirling around both you and Ren as they waited. 

A sharp intake of breath behind you told you that he was aware of them, too. A good sign, a sign that he was ready and willing. You finished the incantation, still reciting under your breath out of some remaining sense of self-consciousness, and opened your lids.

Grabbing the knife, you turned to face Ren. His eyes widened and you could feel his pulse racing as he tried not to jump to conclusions. 

_Stop it. She's not going to kill you. She's not going to hurt you…_

You toyed with the blade, metal cool despite the warmth of the room, and contemplated how to explain the next step. “Okay, so...vyou can, you can feel the. presence I brought into the room, yes?”

“I can. What are they?”

“It's difficult to explain. Essentially, they will be the force that binds us and the way we channel their power is through blood sigils.”

_Calm yourself..._

He gulped. “Wh-What does that entail?”

“We’ll have to etch them into each other's skin--not deep, just enough to draw blood. It won't be too painful. I promise.”

“How will I know what to draw?”

You stepped closer, less than an arm's length from him now. “I'll guide you.”

You'd created the sigils yourself over the past week, crystallizing your intent in complex, curvilinear designs before stripping away the intricacies until only the basic essences remained. The particulars were deeply personal and required specific knowledge of the soul in question-- knowledge you'd obtained through interaction and physical union. 

Gripping the knife as steadily as you could manage, you pressed the tip into the flesh of his chest, just left of the scar you'd left during your first encounter. Jaw tight with anticipation, Ren did not flinch when you broke the skin. A red trickle dripped from the blade, and you began to carve, concentrating as hard as you could on each centimeter and attaining perfection through sheer force of will. 

You would've sworn that hours passed, white-knuckled and focused as you were, although it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. Drawing back and removing the knife, you studied your work. It was exactly as you'd practiced, and you were pleased to see that the blade was sharp enough to leave smooth, well defined lines. 

Ren tilted his head down, studying himself and wincing while he wiped some of the blood with his fingers. “Not _so_ bad.”

 _You_ can _trust her._

You shook your head and took his hand as he pulled it away from his wound, bringing it to your lips. Pressing them to his wrist, you closed your eyes and kissed the length of his palm, lapping up the blood that ran down it. 

His pulse quickened. “Oh…”

He blushed all the way from his cheeks to his neck and pushed his digits into your mouth with unrestrained eagerness. Savoring the taste of iron and salt and _him_ \- just as good as ever--you sucked them clean and opened your eyes to meet his darkening stare. 

“Mmm.” Satisfied, you pulled your head back and caught his hand once more, closing his digits around the bony white of the knife handle. “Your turn.”

A staccato exhale and a nod when he looked between the blade and your bare chest. “Where should I start?”

_I don't want to scar her..._

You'd momentarily forgotten that he had no idea what he was doing. “Right. Um, I'll just…” Trailing off, you wrapped your hands around his, placing the tip of the knife just below your breasts. 

Guiding him proved to be a challenge, and your etching went much slower. The hard part was almost over, you couldn't afford to mess up now--but drawing backwards was no easy task. With caged breath and clammy hands, he followed your lead and engraved his adoration into your flesh.

The sigil completed, you exhaled and gazed at your torso, red blood slipping in tiny rivulets down your belly. Biting your lip, you collected the trails of fluid on your fingertips, staring through him while you led them to his mouth. He swallowed, closing his eyes, taking your digits between his plush, pink lips, dying them red--and _moaned_. 

A shiver of desire spiked up your spine, and you nodded, pushing your fingers further into his mouth. His strong tongue lapped at the crevice between them, sliding back and forth, tingles of pleasure echoing over your skin. When you’d been cleaned, his lids opened again, revealing blackened, hungry eyes. Your hand slid from his lips--he seemed dazed until he met your gaze, and his attention drifted from your face to your breasts, to the fresh carving between them. Breath shallow, he bent down, kissing and licking at the tender flesh.

_So good… need more..._

You whimpered--his tongue teased at the open wound, gliding into your cuts, mouth sucking and gathering your blood like water. His chin was soiled scarlet, his nose crimson--his desire so potent, so engulfing, he was pushing you back, the force of his need driving you into the adjacent wall. His fingers dug into your hips, the cool blade that he still held pressed against you when you felt your back and ass connecting with something warm and smooth--glass. Lush greens and soft golds blurred into luminous blues from behind you, a dizzying shroud tinting his skin. It gave him a striking, ethereal quality to match his ferocity, and it made your heart skip a beat. 

Ren was possessed, now, slurping at your ribcage, following the creeks of blood along the curve of your belly, down the mound of your pussy--where he stopped, altogether reverential and terrified. But a quick glimpse of memory--he recalled how sharp, how good you’d tasted. Knife clattering to the ground, he pushed your legs apart, using his impressive strength to heave them over his shoulders, bringing him centimeters from your flushing cunt. Shaky breath leaked from your lungs, and you clenched--right before his eyes.

_Fuck, she wants me… such a perfect little cunt..._

Large hands supporting your ass, he nuzzled into your thigh, staining it red as he trailed soft kisses along the lips of your sex. His tongue pushed between your folds, tentative, but eager to taste you once more. You wanted more pressure, wanted to grind into his face but fear of being dropped kept you still. 

His eyes flicked up, gauging your reaction while he explored, dipping into you and dragging his tongue along your tight heat. Your tense fingers wove through his hair and gripped his scalp, urging him to continue. He nipped your flesh, sucking marks into your aching pussy as he hunted for your clit. His long nose brushed against it first, and you jerked, all twitching thighs and breathy moans at the sudden friction. 

_Mmm, so needy..._

His grip on you tightened and he buried his face even further between your legs, treating your cunt the same as your pretty lips and claiming it with his tongue. Sucking your throbbing nub closer and closer to climax, he hummed into you and pulled back slightly, breath heavy and face slick. The warmth between your legs was snaking its way up, spreading to the sigil on your chest and imbuing it with the pent-up energy of your growing orgasm. 

Your nails were threatening to rake red lines into his head, your muscles shaking, your hips rolling into his mouth underneath his grip. Under the pressure of pleasure, your head wanted to fall back on the window, your lids wanted to flutter shut, but you wouldn’t--you loved watching him worship you, loved watching him explore and learn your body. Ren’s tongue brushed your clit, and you gasped, jerking, core clenching as you teetered at the edge of climax. 

“Yes, _yes_ ,” you whimpered. “Fuck--you’re so _good_ …”

He groaned into your pussy, lips smacking while he drove himself between your legs, drawing your nub further between his teeth, spurred on by your praise and loss of control. His brain was spinning with excitement and disbelief--disbelief at how good you tasted, how beautiful you were, how he was _actually_ about to make you cum on his tongue. 

Flashes of fantasy had haunted him for the past week--what it would be like to have you pulsing at his mouth, to hear your voice crackling with pleasure as he broke you with his lips--but they were incomparable to the feeling of your flesh and the taste of your cum and the sound of bliss from your throat. And then, you felt in the back of his mind--the distant, urgent ache of his cock, fully erect and twitching to be inside of your wet cunt. 

“That’s it,” you murmured, “that’s it-- _fuck_!”

Ecstasy erupted inside of you, shooting like lightning to the ends of your nerves and spasming every muscle below your waist. There it was--your wound running hot while you absorbed your share of the energy you'd pulled into the room. Your cunt clenched and throbbed at his lips, and he was eager, moaning and suckling you while you convulsed around him, his fingers pinching your thighs while he gripped you close. 

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, need to fuck this pussy, need this around my cock…_

You whined, shuddering as the tails of your climax fled your body, but Ren was ignorant--too enamoured with how you tasted, with the sensation of your dripping and flinching flesh at his face, and unaware that the ritual was half complete. He was dragging you through the boundaries of overstimulation, and you growled, scraping his scalp and prying him from your swollen folds. Ren was gasping, his eyes bleary, his cheeks pink, his mouth sullied with blood and cum--an echo of how he’d looked the first time you’d fucked. And you had almost forgotten how fun it was to toy with him.

“Tell me what you want, Father,” you purred.

His voice was rasping. Desperate. “I want to fuck--I want to fuck you.”

Grinning, you combed your fingers through his hair. “You want to cum inside me?”

Ren swallowed. “Yes.”

_Please._

You jerked his head back. “You want to feel me cum on your cock?”

Shifting with discomfort, he nodded. “ _Yes_.”

 _Come_ on…

“And,” you said, suppressing a giggle, “you want to be mine?”

“Yes!” he growled.

_Let me fuck you!_

You smiled. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Ren snarled, bruising your ass when he squeezed, pinning you to the window while he shrugged your legs off of his shoulders and shoved you further up the glass, his biceps bulging as he hoisted you so your hips were level with his. He swallowed again, his breath shaky, and pressed himself into you, his dick slipping between the slick folds of your cunt. Nibbling your lip, you eased some of the strain by wrapping your legs around his waist--and he grunted, angling his length at your waiting entrance. He was captivated, his eyes black, his lips parted, his body entirely consumed by a tidal wave of lust, iridescent from the colorful light.

“Fuck,” he whispered--and pushed in, sinking his thick cock deep into your hot, tight core. “ _Fuck_ …”

Half-limp, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he buried his face in your shoulder, moans barely muffled. He held you closer than he ever had, grinding into you and basking in your slick heat, not even pulling back to thrust properly. You imagined his grip growing tighter while he fucked you, strong fingers digging into your flesh until you shattered, bones dissolving into an opalescent dust. 

He rocked his hips against you, making sure you felt every inch of his cock. With each movement, his pelvis grazed your clit and you squirmed, still sensitive in the wake of your orgasm. His lips curled into a smirk as he kissed his way to your jaw, nibbling at your pulse, and his palms slid up your thighs, prying you further apart. Pushing in deeper still, his hand wandered between you, thumb seeking your swollen nub. You hissed when he found it, rubbing gently at first but urged on by the feeling of you clenching around his dick. 

_Shh, that's it. You're going to cum for me again._

You whined, dragging your nails up his back and digging them deep into his shoulder blades as his pace quickened. The glass behind you was damp with your sweat and you felt yourself slipping, although Ren didn't seem to notice. Frenzied and zealous, his greedy length plunged into you, and he worked your clit raw, coaxing you to the edge faster than you could comprehend. 

Chest heaving and eyes closed in rapture, he gasped. “T-the sigil… it f-feels…”

“Just embrace it,” you whispered, increasingly impatient, “and let me cum all over you.”

Ren moaned, a haze of lust clouding his senses and stifling all other thought.

You writhed against him, desperate for release. “ _Louder_. Show me how good it feels.”

He almost howled in response, and the sound of his carnal need filled the air like the church bells themselves, his thumb keeping its frantic pace on your nub.

“Fffuck…” His hips snapped into you, skin smacking skin drowned out by his loud, primal groans, chanting your name in disbelief. “God, _fuck_ , you feel so good--you feel so _fucking_ good!”

The admission of pleasure was enough to fling you into your climax, a fissure of bliss slicing through your spine and wracking your nerves to the ends of your limbs. It was breath-stealing, sight-stealing, deliciously and perfectly painful; your cunt gripped his cock like a vice, pulsing and milking it as you squealed his name, clinging to his sweating and panting frame. Ren seethed through clenched teeth, stifling a sob as he crested through his own peak, spilling his load into your cunt. His hips stuttered, his body shaking with his release, his lungs sucking down air while his forehead fell to your shoulder, both of you coated with evidence of your exertion.

His strength and power spent, he slipped out of you and eased you to the floor. Fluids were collecting in puddles at your feet--sweat, cum, blood--you wondered who would end up cleaning the mess. Ren’s thick arms wrapped around you, and he pulled you against his heaving chest, his grip tight, his brain still fuzzy with fading lust. But you weren’t complaining--he was warm. Solid. You nuzzled into his chest before pushing away to survey the room.

The candles and incense had burned out. And the air was empty, now--the only two souls left lingering were yours and his own. The pull in your chest from the cut flesh had evaporated, too. You swallowed, biting back a smile. You did it. He was yours. All _yours_.

“Well?” Ren asked. There was a tinge of anxiety in his tone.

Grinning, you met his eyes. He’d be able to hear you, if you let him. _You’re mine_. 

His eyes widened--you felt the jump in his pulse while he grappled with the newfound sensation of another person in his head. Pensive, his gaze flitted to the floor, then roamed over your body, committing every part of it to his memory. He grabbed your hand, curling it inside of his own, staring into you, sun-stained irises glowing gold in the wake of day. Swallowing, he brushed a thumb along your cheek, his lip quivering, dark lashes batting away the intrusion of the rising light. Your mouth parted, a tiny breath passing through you. 

“I love you,” he said, his voice a tremor.

Tugging his hand away, you rolled your eyes, laughing. “No, you don’t.” 

His face fell, brow pinched. But it was true--he didn’t. He’d confused it for infatuation. You folded his fingers around yours and brought his knuckles to your lips, brushing each of them with a kiss.

“You don’t,” you repeated, smirking. “But you will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end of A Full Confession! Yay!! 
> 
> But! This is very likely NOT the end of Father Ren & Demon!Reader. voidrot and I have been discussing ideas for a sequel/additional exploration of their relationship/more gross blasphemous sex. SO! If it's something you're into, keep a look out!
> 
> Thank you all SO much for your support! We love writing this so much so being able to share it and have other people enjoy it too is truly a joy. Your comments are so kind and wonderful. THANK YOU! <3<3<3


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